


And they were roommates (oh my god they were roommates)

by rocket_rach



Series: Roommates [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Family Drama, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Neighbors, Slow Burn, but comic canon is garbage so I'm picking and choosing, helpful superpowered pseudo family, like so fucking slow it's hurting me, loosely based on comics, oh my god they were roommates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-02
Updated: 2019-01-16
Packaged: 2019-07-05 16:16:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 24,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15867210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rocket_rach/pseuds/rocket_rach
Summary: Dick gets kicked out and goes through his midlife crisis at 18





	1. no, youre adopted, /we're/ getting a divorce

**Author's Note:**

> this is turning out to be a monster so just strap yourselves in okay
> 
> please kudos or review!! I want to hear your thoughts about this story but I especially want to hear your thoughts about Lois punching Bruce

“Uncle Clark?” Dick sniffed into the phone.

“What’s up, pal?” Clark answered, his voice heavy with sleep.

“Can you come pick me up? I’m… I’m at Metropolis Central.”

Clark sat up in his bed, frowning into the darkness. “The train station? What happened? I’m coming; but why are you there in the first place?”

On the other side of the city, Dick was pacing by the men’s bathroom. He had one backpack with him, all he had managed to pack before they would have come to check on him. Every few moments Dick would stop, looking towards where the Gotham trains emptied out. He expected to see Bruce storming towards him, his face filled with parental worry. But that was before.

“Bruce kicked me out,” He finally sighed, turning back to the exit to downtown Metropolis. “Can you be orphaned twice? I mean, I guess he’s not dead so… Well, I dunno,” Dick paused, trying to answer that question. “Regardless, is that offer to stay at your place still open?”

“My door is always open for you, pal. Head one block over onto 4th street. There’s an alleyway between a bank and an abandoned warehouse. I’ll wait for you there,” Just as Clark finished speaking, Dick could hear the rush of wind through the other man’s phone.

“I’ll see you soon, Uncle Clark,” Dick ended the call.

He adjusted his backpack as he strode through the grand hall, looking up at the half-finished mural of Metropolis and her favorite hero, Superman, saving the city from various villains. Even the Justice League was drawn out on the ceiling, waiting to be filled in with paint that would showcase the heroes that were brought together because of Batman. He recognized the pointy ears standing to the left of Superman, with Wonder Woman flanking Supe’s right. Gotham City would never recognize her hero like that, just like how Bats couldn’t handle how badly Robin wanted to be his own hero. It would be too much to admit that their hero had grown, would grow ever more if given the chance to simply spread his wings and explore. But allowing Robin to do that had been too much for Batman. It had scared the emotionally damaged man behind the cowl; scared him to the point of lashing out. In the tiniest part of Dick’s mind, he knew that Bruce’s anger was a response learned from losing his parents. Seeing your parents die could do that to a person, Dick had realized. It made you nervous to let anyone in and terrified to let anyone go. He bit his lip as he stepped into the gleaming Metropolis night. But even still, Dick mused as he walked down fourth street, Bruce had raised Dick so he wouldn’t become like Batman. He should have expected Dick's need to become his own hero, his own man.

“Goddamn it,” Dick cursed, turning down the alleyway. Sure enough, Superman was leaning casually against the building, his eyebrow quirked up at the curse.

“Do you want to talk now?” He asked.

Dick charged forward, hugging Clark. “Not right now, Supes. Thank you,” He murmured as strong arms wrapped around him. 

“Lois is up. She’s making mac and cheese,” Clark whispered as he picked up Dick and began his flight back to the apartment.

“Like your mom makes it?” Dick asked hopefully as his feet were placed on the apartment porch.

“The best and only version,” Clark confirmed as Dick’s feet hit the porch.

Clark darted inside the apartment, no doubt going to change back into his pajamas. Lois was busy, standing over the stove in their small apartment. The smell of slowly melting cheese reached Dick’s nose as he wandered in, dropping his bag next to the small, low, grey couch that faced the television. Lois waved at him, a few strands of hair dropping out of her bun as she cooked. From the master bedroom, Clark walked out wearing a Smallville High t-shirt and some shorts.

“So, what happened?” Clark asked, pushing his glasses onto his nose.

“I thought the glasses were fake?” Dick asked instead.

“It helps me keep up the charade at work if I wear the glasses at home,” He shrugged.

“The charade. _The charade_ ,” Lois scoffed from over the noodles. “I’ve seen Clark Kent and Kal-el trip over his feet. The charade is Kal-el, not Clark Kent. Hi, Dick. How are you doing?”

Dick sat at the dining room table, which was also located in the kitchen and the living room. “To be honest,” he began, noticing how both Clark and Lois paused. “I have no idea.”

“How did it begin?” Clark asked.

“We… we got into a fight. I dropped out of college. I’m sure you heard.”

“I dropped out too! Now I'm a world famous reporter,” Lois chimed in helpfully.

“I don’t think Bruce would like me becoming a journalist,” Dick laughed, which died quickly. “I told Bruce what I wanted to do. I told him I wanted to get involved with law enforcement. He said I was being reckless. That I didn’t care what happened to me,” Dick’s eyes flashed with bitterness. “But I’m doing what I was raised to do, by my father.”

Clark and Lois looked at each other across the small table. They’d had this discussion about Dick being chased off by Bruce many times. But never, in all the discussions about this hypothetical situation they had imagined, did they think Bruce would actually do it. Clark, quite frankly, was at a loss. He wanted to call the reclusive billionaire and demand an answer for the obviously broken boy in front of him, but he realized that Dick had come to him for a reason; that reason simply being that Clark could be trusted to keep Dick hidden from the overly invasive billionaire. His heart was breaking for the boy sitting at his table.

“When do you start police academy?” Clark asked instead.

“I don’t know. I haven’t enrolled yet. I was hoping…. Well, that doesn’t matter. I just need to find a place to crash so I can enroll and get to work in Gotham,” Dick sent Lois a faint smile as she strained the noodles over the sink. “Or I was thinking that maybe I could just get adopted by you two.” 

“Try again, Boy wonder,” Lois said dryly as she tossed the noodles back into the pot. “Your father would sue us lowly reporters for everything we’ve got, and that doesn’t even include Clark’s fortress up north and you know he’d go up there himself and dismantle it if he could.”

“But,” Clark spoke up. “You can stay here until you get you find something.”

“… Thank you,” Dick murmured.

“Anytime, pal.” 

“Plus, we’ll keep Mister Monopoly away from you,” Lois added, finally dishing out the mac. 

Dick sucked in a slow breath. He had considered the idea of Bruce coming to Metropolis. Clark had been the first superhero to meet Dick, and not long after that, Robin. Clark had watched Dick when Bruce had emergency business meetings when Alfred couldn’t; Clark had protected Dick from many life-threatening situations and people. Clark had even made the offer of his open door in front of Bruce which had resulted in the billionaire falling into one of his dark brooding moods. But Bruce knew everything about Clark. His Metropolis address, his Smallville one, and all the other baggage that came with being an interstellar refugee. Dick reached into his pocket and pulled his phone out. No calls from Bruce’s cell, none from Alfred. There was nothing. Dick placed the phone on the table, screen down.

“Trust me,” Dick began. “I don’t think he’ll even bother looking.”

Clark looked up with a mouthful of noodles. “He would. He will always look for you. He’s just… Dick, he’s just an ass sometimes.”

“He’s more than an ass,” the acrobat said after he finished his bite. “He disowned me. He told me I wasn’t welcome back at the manor and I didn’t deserve to call myself Robin anymore. He took Robin away from me. That wasn’t his right!”

Lois and Clark glanced at each other.

“I’m so sorry, Dick. Listen, Clark’ll keep him at bay at the other job, and I’ll make damn sure he doesn’t come anywhere near you here. In fact,” She grinned, a spark lighting in her eyes. “I’ve got a plan that might keep Bruce away from you until you can get established.”

“Lois…”

“Shut up, Smallville. Richard Grayson, how would you like to help me write a tell-all article on Bruce Wayne?” The macaroni was now ignored. Lois was leaning across the table, her eyes seeming to glow.

“I thought you worked for the _Planet_ , not the _Enquirer_.” 

“Ah, shit. You’re right. It’s too soon and you still love him. Plus, I think he owns us anyway. Damn it,” Lois plopped back into her seat and stabbed a noodle. “Do you want me to send Diana after him? She’s been looking for a chance to tear Bruce a new one. Maybe Hal. I think Hal would actually be better. If you do want Bruce to keep his distance then I would suggest keeping a high profile. Now, hear me out!” She held up a finger as Dick opened his mouth. “Your dad has got that stupid, airheaded, playboy persona he puts on for the masses; right? But when you’re out with him, he’s much more reserved and you are, too. You’re technically a runaway, Dick. Use that to your advantage. Act up, grow a mullet, grow some chest hair and buy every single polka dot shirt you can.”

“I’m not going to grow a mullet."

“The mullet’s a possibility then.”

“No—”

“I think what Lois is trying to say,” Clark interrupted, shooting his girlfriend a look. “Is that now you can be yourself. Do you think C.C. Haly would take you back? You could try going just civilian for a while.”

“I am myself. Robin is a part of me. I—god, okay,” Dick took a deep breath. He had thought about reaching out to Pops, and he would take Dick back. But everything was still too raw. If Bruce had truly meant everything he’d said, then the manor was no longer Dick’s home. Finally, Dick released the breath he was holding. “I appreciate this, I really do. But I’m tired. Can I just go to sleep?”

They nodded, getting up and clearing the now empty bowls away. Clark stood by the sink, cleaning the dishes while Lois helped him get settled on the couch. They bade him a goodnight, then left Dick in the living room. He scrolled through Facebook for a while, his thoughts racing too much for him to sleep. Wally was starting his first day of his junior year at college, and after wishing him the best of luck on his post, his phone started buzzing. As he pressed answer, the first light of the day broke over the horizon.

“Alfred?”


	2. run

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this chapter's got it all; alfred, babs, and most importantly - Perry fuckin white

“Are you safe?” Alfred asked.

“Yeah. I am. I’m sorry for running off.”

“I think I can allow this transgression. You were well within your right. Are you planning on coming home?”

Dick swallowed. “He made it pretty clear I couldn’t come home, Alf. Even if I wanted to, could I even get back onto the grounds? I’m sure he’s changed all the clearances. I really don’t feel like getting electrocuted.”

“Even if Master Wayne did change the codes, I have the final say. We’d never allow for you to be hurt on the grounds,” Alfred sat in the kitchen at the manor, rubbing his forehead wearily. “I don’t need to know where you are, but I would recommend changing phones soon. He’s still fuming in the cave, but if you wish to stay hidden… Well, suffice to say that he would check your phone’s location first. I just wanted to let you know, Dick,” In Metropolis, Dick’s eyebrows shot for his hair. Alfred never dropped the honorariums unless he really wanted his younger charge to listen. “You will always have a home here. I will do my best to make sure Master Bruce sees the errors of his ways and quickly. But I want you to promise me one thing.”

“What?” Dick asked, gnawing on his lower lip to keep back the tears that were building in his eyes.

“I want you to promise me that you’ll continue to be the bright, resilient boy we took in all those years ago. You are Master Wayne’s son, so you have inherited his… let’s call it, hardheadedness. If you require anything at all, I want you to contact me. Are we clear?”

“Crystal.”

“Good,” Alfred cleared his throat. “He’ll no doubt be emerging soon. I also wanted to let you know; I’ll be making Master Wayne’s life a living hell for what he’s done to you. It’s inexcusable.”

“Aw, Alf—” Dick paused. “You’re gonna make him foods he hates, aren’t you?”

“And make his schedule a nightmare. But I really should be going now. Stay safe, Master Dick. We’ll no doubt see you back at the manor in a fortnight,” With that, the butler ended the call.

Dick closed his eyes, wishing that the butler was there in Clark’s apartment with him. 

He woke up a few hours later, finding himself sleeping in Clark and Lois’ bed. His phone was charging on the bedside table, which was actually just a stack of _Daily Planets_. He had a text from Clark.

_Hey pal! It looked like you were going to crick your neck sleeping on the couch, so I moved you here. Lois and I will be at the Planet all day, but Hovee’s coffee down the street is great place to kill time. If you need anything, text me!_

Dick grinned. He typed back: _Thanks uncle clark!!! Ill check out that coffee shop_

The iced coffee at Hovee’s was the best coffee Dick had had in a while. He took another sip before letting his fingers fly over the keyboard on his laptop. It didn’t make a lot of sense for Gotham City not to be hiring new police officers given the city’s crime rate. Bludhaven was hiring. Maybe Dick could work in Gotham City’s armpit. It’d be cheaper to live there and there would be enough to keep him busy as a cop and a vigilante. It also didn’t hurt that it was so close to Gotham. He finished his drink and started drumming his fingers on the table top next to his laptop. As he started perusing some apartment sites, his firewalls and securities started flashing on his screen.

Bruce was trying to hack in.'

Dick gaped at his laptop. He began typing, knowing that it was too late. If he knew that Bruce was hacking in, then Bruce was already halfway into his system. His fingers flew across the keyboard, his eyebrows knitting in concentration as he fought back. 

The screen blacked out. Then the only thing that appeared on the screen was Oracle’s symbol. A single chat box appeared.

_Did the boy wonder run away?_

Dick grinned. _Ur totally blocking him, aren’t u_

_Well, when he asked him to hack into your laptop at 6 in the goddamn morning, I got curious._

_Thanks babs._

_I hacked into the security footage of the cave._

He swallowed, looked around and found a quiet corner. Moving before anybody else could claim that corner and that precious, coveted outlet, he settled down. _So u saw it all_

_The whole fight_. Oracle confirmed. Then: _I’m gonna make him regret the things he said to you._

_dont babs. I just need some space after everything. Pissing him off is only gonna make him look harder._

_Ugh. Fine. Tell big blue I say hi. I wouldn’t recommend staying there for long. He was getting close to you before I got in. also remind me next time I see you to fix your firewalls. They’re sad._

Before Dick could argue back, she was gone. Her symbol was gone, his background of Haly’s Circus was lighting his face up, and Bruce was very much not hacked into his system. He sighed. At most, he probably had a few days left before Bruce decided to “visit” his Metropolis office. He got to his feet and went to order another coffee. Once the latte was in hand, he started up his apartment search again.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the city, Clark Kent had just been summoned to Perry White’s office. Striding across the bullpen, he opened the door and cursed.  
Bruce Wayne was sitting at Perry’s desk, his face apoplectic.

“Kent,” He spoke softly. 

Clark was exceedingly glad that Bruce had no powers, because if he had heat vision right now, Clark was pretty sure that he’d be reduced to ash.

“Mister Wayne,” Clark pushed his glasses up his nose. “Um, how I can help you?”

“I don’t know if you heard,” He began, his eyes pinning Clark to his spot by the door. “But my son ran away last night.”

“I hadn’t. I’m sorry to hear that Mister Wayne. Have the police been alerted?”

“It’s too soon. They won’t declare him missing until 24 hours after the fact. But… from what Perry has told me, you’ve got ears in the seedier parts of Metropolis. Not that there’s many seedy parts of Metropolis, but still.”

Clark could hear Lois sprinting through the lobby, then up the stairs. She was heading for the office and from the rate she was cussing, she knew who was in the office.

“Frankly, Mister Wayne, this sounds like a problem for the police. I’m not sure what you want me to do.”

“Enough, Clark. I know he’s staying with you.”

“Who? Your son?”

Bruce rose to his feet, stomping around the desk to Clark. He stood in front of him, the picture of towering parental rage. 

“Where. Is. Dick.” He bit out.

For all the years Clark had worked with Bruce, both in and out of masks, he still quailed a bit inside when Bruce’s rage finally managed to make it to the surface. He swallowed.

“I don’t know, Mister Wayne.”

“Goddamn it, Clark!” He snarled. “Don’t lie to me.”

The door behind Clark banged open, and Lois Lane spilled into the office.

“Bruce!” She grinned, the picture of false cheeriness. “Just the billionaire I wanted to see! Clark, Jimmy needs to see you. Oh,” She paused, looking at the non-existent distance between the two men. “Am I interrupting something?”

“No.” “Yes.” They both bit out at the same time.

“Good. That sounds nice and resolved,” she scooted in between them, her back to Clark. “Bruce, what do you think of the new mayor of Gotham’s plan to rid the city of the bat?”

Lois didn’t get this far in the world because she was a dummy. She knew how people, and vigilantes worked. If you mentioned their city and their other persona, they would be sufficiently distracted enough for the object of their ire to vanish. Clark squeezed her hand in silent appreciation and blurred out of the office before Bruce could stop him. Lois simply smiled at Bruce, but the warmth did not reach her eyes.

“I have no comment.” Bruce blinked, then cursed. “Where did he go?”

“I told you already; Jimmy need help with something. Smallville loves helping out the newbies, especially when they’re in a new place with no one. But,” she waved her hand in the air as she walked to the desk and sat on it. “That’s neither here nor there. Surely the White Knight of Gotham has some opinions on the mayor or the Bat!”

“I have no comment, Miss Lane,” Bruce sighed. He strode to the door and paused. “I will find my son, Lois.”

“I thought you said you didn’t have a son?” She asked innocently, bringing up Dick’s words from last night.

The door slammed so hard the glass rattled.

“LANE! KENT!” Perry roared from somewhere in the bullpen. “If Wayne broke my office you’ll be paying for the repairs.”

Lois walked out, watching Bruce glare at her as the elevator doors shut. “It’s fine, Perry. You know how billionaires and I get along.”

“Not at all?” Perry grumbled as he stood by her side. “We’ve got to get you a new beat.”

She patted Perry on the back. “I’ve got to get to the roof. Superman wants to talk to me,” with that, she rushed to the elevator.

Minutes later, Lois stood under the shadow of the slowly spinning globe. Superman touched down in front of her, his face stormy. 

“Well, that didn’t take long,” Lois groaned. “At least he didn’t fire us.”

“I could take him to the Fortress. He’d be safe there.” Superman mused.

“Yeah, because Dick Grayson loves being completely alone.”

“Krypto is there!”

“Krypto is a dog, Superman. Listen, go get the kid. Tell him what happened. He can stay, that’s fine. But we all know what an enraged Bat is capable of. I very much like our apartment door attached,” She pursed her lips together.

“We’re both on duty tonight at the watchtower. I can talk to him then.”

“Okay. You try that. Listen, I gotta get back into the bullpen. I’ll see you at home.” Lois stood up on her toes and kissed him, then quickly dashed back inside.

In Hovee’s, Dick grinned. He found a perfect place in Bludhaven. It was shitty. A hole-in-the-wall with tons of water damage that would make a great place to build a new Batcave… or Robin’s nest, whatever. He dialed the phone number and began packing up, his phone between his shoulder and ear.

Someone hacked up a lung as they answered. “H’what do ya want?”

“I saw you have an opening for two apartments in Bludhaven.”

“Hn,” the landlord grunted. “How old are you?”

“What’s that have to do with me renting your space?” Dick asked.

“If you ain’t old enough or ain’t rich enough, then I can’t help you.”

“I’m eighteen.” 

From the other end of the line, Dick heard a lighter clicking. “Old enough for me. You want both spaces?”

The acrobat paused. He had just seen the two apartments and thought how perfect it would be. He’d been distracted with the possibilities it opened up to his night job and everything, he hadn’t even considered a good reason as to why he would need two apartments. His mind flew, trying to come up with a convincing answer to that question.

“Yeah, um, I got a friend who’s really sick. Not to the point of ruining the space- but still, not great. They want a place where they won’t be disturbed. They can’t call because they can’t talk,” He explained. “Like I said, really sick.”

“They gonna be able to make rent?” The landlord asked.

“Yeah. They’re in a home right now but it’s getting too expensive.”

The landlord hacked up a lung suddenly, then snorted. “Well. If they don’t ruin the place I don’t see no problem.”

“Another thing,” Dick added. “They don’t want to be disturbed at all. They have a really weak immune system. Anybody who hasn’t been around them before shouldn’t try talking to them. It could kill them.”

“I don’t check on anybody unless they’re smoking crack or burning my building down. Just tell em to make rent and we’ll be fine.”

Dick agreed and set up an appointment to check out the space. He knew he was already going to rent it, but it gave him an excuse to get out of Metropolis earlier than expected. Dick stepped out of the coffee shop, arching his head back. He was coming to understand why Clark had chosen Metropolis as his city. The city was the epitome of modernity, glass buildings that reflected the smog-free skyscape above. Giant fluffy clouds where reflected in the various glass buildings that surrounded him. People were interacting on the streets, talking on their phones, to each other and even smiling. The green spaces that dotted the wide sidewalks were actually green, and not dusty, urine-soaked patches like Gotham had. And Dick had yet to see a single gargoyle. He shouldered his bag, deciding that a walk was needed. The coffee shop had sufficiently distracted his thoughts from Bruce’s actions, but now that the apartment was a real possibility his mind has settled. He tried focusing on the faces that passed him. 

Compared to Gotham, Metropolis was young. Ever since Superman had leveled it during his fight with Zod, it had reinvented itself. Concrete buildings were replaced with glass and eco-friendly ones, bike lines were filled with Citi-bikes and people’s own, and electric car charging stations seem to exist on every block. Even the universities and colleges that were located in the city were updating their look as well. Even the populace was young. Dick saw very few older people walking through the throngs of young adults who were laughing, dressed up for some music festival occurring somewhere in the city. Glitter lay in piles at intersections, which Dick deftly stepped over. As he waited for the walk sign to light up, Dick didn’t notice the Bentley until it suddenly pulled a sharp U-turn and headed for him.

Bruce had made Dick memorize all the cars license plates when he was young. It had been around the time he’d first arrived at the manor. But as the black luxury sedan barreled down on him, he recognized the string of letters and numbers. He was moving before he realized it, dashing down a nondescript alley-way. He found a fire escape and jumped up. He pulled himself onto the landing and began sprinting up the stairs to the roof. From below him, he heard the low rumble of Bentley as Bruce pulled into the alleyway. Dick rolled over the ledge, crashing onto the roof. He climbed to his feet, picking up momentum so he could jump onto the next roof. The balls of Dick’s feet hit the ledge and he jumped. Tucking into a roll, he got to the other roof. He kept on sprinting, afraid to look behind him.

But finally, the rational part of his brain spoke up. Bruce would never attempt to climb onto a roof. It would give too much away. If someone caught the billionaire climbing up a fire escape and chasing a kid across a roof, that’d make the connection to Batman that much easier. With that thought occupying his mind, Dick finally risked a glance behind himself. 

The roofs were empty.

Dick dropped to his knees, panting. If Bruce had already made it to Metropolis, he probably already talked to Clark. Dick fell backwards, his back hitting the surface of the roof. His hand reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone. He had a text from Clark.

_Bruce knows you’re here._

_yeah. i figured that out when he nearly ran me over._ Dick responded. He set his phone on his chest and stared up at the cloudy sky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> should i start naming the chapters after vines vote now on your phones
> 
> (this chapter would be this https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eTMb2UkW4xY )


	3. fre s h a voca do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dick and Clark try their hands at house hunting, Hal tries talking to Spooky, and Jim Gordon finds a run away

Clark ends up going with Dick to check out the apartment. They sat on the train that ran from Metropolis to Gotham, knees pressed against the backs of the seats in front of them. With a lurch, the train set off, the low horn echoing through the yard. 

“Did I ever tell you the Kryptonian legend of Nightwing?” Clark asked.

Dick watched as the other riders plugged their headphones into their devices, losing themselves in the images on their screens. He shook his head, focusing back on Clark.  
“Nope.”

Clark grinned. “They were heroes. Legends. There was Nightwing and Flamebird. Both were vigilantes who did their best to uphold the values we also fight for here. Nightwing was cast out from his family and took up crime fighting as a way to make a name for himself. There are some other versions I’ve found; a few saying that they were gods who tried to protect the city of Kandor.”

“Didn’t Kandor get taken by Brainiac?”

“Yeah, it did,” He sighed.

“It was before your time,” Dick nudged him. “Can’t save everybody, Uncle Clark. Especially if it happened before you were born.”

Clark finally let a small smile slip. “You’re right. But anyway, some legends say that Flamebird was a massive dragon. Nightwing was… I guess the polar opposite. But they worked. Flamebird was a bright light, and Nightwing was the comforting dark. But they worked together to help keep Kryptonians safe. I think I like the idea of just two Kryptonians trying to do some good for their world.

“They were heroes in every story. Regardless of their origins, whichever one you want to believe. They fought for Justice and peace. But they forged their own paths. Krypton was a world of uniformity – or at least it was at the end. But Nightwing bucked against the powers and came out a hero.”

“They were dragons?” Dick asked.

“In some legends,” Clark responded.

Dick mulled this over, the bay that separated Gotham and Metropolis coming into view.

“Do you really think I can become my own hero and still…. Still be able to live with him?”

“I think he’d be so proud he’d burst,” Clark murmured. “and if he isn’t, you have a whole community that would be.”

The train’s horn blared as the wheels hit the track. Dick looked down at the water, seeing yachts and barges chugging through the murky brown water, leaving white wakes. In the distance, the Wayne Enterprises building loomed over the rest of the skyline. It had been two weeks since his near encounter with Bruce, and he missed him. However, the words that were shouted at him before he had left still had their talons clenched around his heart. Dick wanted to believe Clark. He wanted to believe that the man who taught him how to fight for justice would be proud of him. But Bruce hadn’t tried contacting him at all. Neither had Dick, so that made it somewhat okay; Dick had thought. 

“It’s Sunday, isn’t it?” He asked.

“Yeah.”

“Alfred should be at the markets, buying the groceries.”

“I can head back after we look at the apartment,” Clark offered. He had a feeling the Boy Wonder would want some alone time with him.

Dick reached an arm over, giving him a grateful hug. “Thanks, Clark.”

Clark hugged him back. “Just don’t come in too late. You know how Lois feels about late night visitors.”

They transferred to the Bludhaven trains some thirty minutes later. Gotham transportation had been improved ten years back when the Wayne Foundation had funneled millions of dollars into revitalization projects but Bludhaven had not been so lucky. The trains were old metal monstrosities, with hard, peeling, plastic seats that were not comfortable at all. The advertisements had been covered in graffiti and numbers that promised a good time if you called. Every time the train’s doors opened, a heavy smell of rot entered the train. For the locals, they were used to it. But Dick and Clark’s disgusted faces gave them away as out-of-towners. Finally, after ten smelly stops, they disembarked.

The city showed all the signs of a once prosperous city, now falling into disrepair. Potholes were everywhere. Some apartment buildings were boarded up with condemned notices pinned to the broken doors. Glass bottles lined the gutters. Old newspapers tumbled past like urban tumbleweeds. They finally reached the building, which looked to be the nicest on the block. They climbed the steps, pressing the doorbell for the button that was marked _LANDLORD_. 

The landlord coughed into the speaker. “Who’sit?”

“Um, Dick Grayson. Here to check out the apartments you have for rent?” 

“Shit. Fuck. You _are_ coming today, aren’t you? Gotdamn it. I’ll be there in a minute.” The landlord coughed into the speaker one more time for good measure.

The door swung open, then the metal barred door opened a minute later. The man was probably in his fifties, with an unlit Marlboro Red hanging between his chapped lips. He looked Dick up and down, then his eyes moved to Clark.

“Stephen Frei.” He jutted an unreasonably dirty hand out. “Which one of youse is Dick?”

“That’s me, Mister Frei,” Dick shook his hand. “This is my friend Clark.”

“Didn’t realize there was gonna be two of ya. He ain’t the sick one, is he?”

“Nope. He’s their rep.”

“Their ref? What the hell does he need a referee for?” Stephen coughed.

“Ah, representative,” Clark spoke up, shaking the man’s hand.

Stephen looked them over once more, then shrugged. “Follow me.”

When Frei’s back was turned, both of them wiped their hands on their pant-legs and followed him in. They climbed to the third landing where Frei pulled out an overloaded keychain and struggled with finding the right key for five minutes. Clark had found an interesting water stain on the ceiling and Dick was simply looking out the window at the alley below. Finally, Stephen gave a grunt of success and the door’s hinges wailed in protested at the door moving. 

The apartment managed to fit the living room, kitchen, bedroom and bathroom all into one room. In one corner, there were scratch marks on the floor, where something heavy had obviously been dragged back and forth, a lot. 

“Last tenant did some kinda porn,” Frei spoke. “Tore the shit outta my floors. Some’a my other tenants just toss a curtain up around the bathroom,” he gestured to the corner where the toilet and the shower were. “Dishwasher don’t work. If you want it to work you gotta pay for it. Fridge is old as dirt, but she works just fine. There’s a gas oven. No laundry in my buildings, you gotta go down the street to the laundromat.”

Dick wandered around the small space, looking it over. His eyes kept drifting to the ceiling. “If there’s any work I want to do to fix this place up, will I lose my deposit?”

“If you wanna fix this place up?” Frei paused to cough. “Shit, kid. Go fuckin’ hogwild. I’ll even give you your deposit back if you manage to turn this shit show around. You gonna fix up your sick friend’s place too?”

“It looks like I’ll have to,” Dick muttered under his breath. Clark turned hide his grin from the landlord.

“What was that?” Frei asked.

“I said sure.”

Dick agreed to take the apartments, and they entered the landlord’s apartment to sign the two contracts. After handing the landlord cash deposits for the both of them, they left. Dick and Clark walked down the street, passing various people asking them for a few bucks. Clark dropped some Subway gift-cards in, earning some grumbles and a few muted thanks. They rode back to the Gotham, chatting idly. Clark gave Dick a quick hug, then left for the next train to Metropolis. Dick boarded, heading to the neighborhood of North Finger Square. Finger Square had been revitalized, thanks to the power of gentrification ten years back, and had opened up two year-round farmer’s markets. They were heated during the winter, and air conditioned during the summer. Growers from all over the tri-state area had booths there that were lined with whatever was in season at the time. When Dick was younger and newer to the Manor, Alfred would bring him along to their weekly grocery trips. They would walk for hours and up and down the aisles, picking out their meals for the week. It was one of the highlights of Dick’s childhood, and because of those trips he knew which stalls the butler would be at and when. Dick walked to the square, stopping only once to buy an umbrella to shield himself from the misting rain that was usual for Gotham.

The market was its usual bustling self, filled with tons of Gothamites. The sounds of the Gothamite accent haggling with a rural one was one that he never grew tired of. Weaving through the crowds of people, Dick approached the butchers end of the market. There were less people here since to a local Gotham City Doctor publishing a book about the dangers of eating meats in a town where a villain could control the greens ingested. Finally, Dick spotted the bald-headed man.

“Alfred!” he called, nearly tripping over a toddler that had run out of nowhere.

The butler’s head whipped around, spotting his youngest charge. He asked the guy behind the counter to wait, then made his way to him. Dick met him halfway, wrapping him up in a viciously tight hug.

“Master Dick,” Alfred groaned, nearly being crushed. “I am ecstatic to see you; however, I can’t breathe.” He groaned.

Dick stepped back, a sheepish grin on his face. “Sorry, Alf. I missed you.”

Alfred placed his hand on Dick’s shoulder, giving him a soft grin. “I missed you too, Master Dick. Now, come with me to this stand. I was just about to get a good price on some pork.”

They returned back to the stand, where they did indeed get a good price on some cuts of pork. Alfred thanked him, promised to be back next week, and then they headed for the coffee shop just down the way. Once they were settled in, coffees in hand, Alfred finally sighed.

“The manor is dreadful without you, Master Dick.”

“I’m sure _the manor_ is,” Dick grumbled. “I found a place in Bludhaven. I’m gonna turn in my application for the Bludhaven Police Academy before I go back to Metropolis.”

Alfred smiled. “I’m proud of you for doing good work, Master Dick. Do you need any assistance while you get your feet under you?”

“I… I appreciate the offer, Alfred. But if I make a name for myself, I want to do it my way. Bruce doesn’t want to be associated with me? That’s fine… I don’t understand it. But the only way I’m going to make people respect me and recognize me as Dick Grayson and not the wayward ward of Bruce is if I do it on my own.”

“I want to help you. I’ll use my own accounts. You don’t arrive at the age of 60 not having made any money by yourself.”

“Alf,” Dick pouted. “You’ve already done so much for me. I can’t… I can’t ask for anymore.”

“I only do this for family, Master Dick. Enough about that, I won’t argue with you anymore about it. Tell me about this apartment.”

“Promise you’ll keep your eyebrows in check?”

“I won’t make a promise I can’t keep.”

 

After Dick had told the butler about the apartment and caught up for a while, they finally said their farewells, and the friends left the market. Dick grabbed a banana for the road and walked into the rain, opening his umbrella. The familiar sound of Gothamites shouting at each other on the street calmed his nerves, centering him. He was so focused in the sounds that he didn’t realized Barbara Gordon was one of the Gothamites shouting at him.

She rolled over his foot. “Hi, Dick,” Babs grinned.

“Ow, _fuck_ , Barbara! Why’d you do that?” Dick cussed, reaching up to rub his toes.

“You were given Bruce a run for his money in the brooding department. It’s how I’ve gotten him out of those funks.”

“No wonder you were nearly banned from the cave,” He grumbled, pinching his nose in pain.

“Oh, I was. We have that in common now. What’re you doing here?”

“I found an apartment in Bludhaven. Clark came with me to check it out and I just talked to Alfred. It’s been… it’s been one of the better days. What’ve you been up to? Wait- where’s the commish?”

“Alfred finally sold him on the markets, so now we come up. Except… those steps make it hard for me to get in,” she sighed. “But it isn’t all bad; there’s a bakery just down the road that has a ramp. You wanna head there now?”

Dick looked down at his watch, then frowned. “Love to, Babs. But I gotta get to the station if I wanna get back to Metropolis. I can’t miss the last train.”

“We could probably give you a ride. Dad’s off today. Did you bring your laptop? I could fix those firewalls of yours.” 

Dick had always had a problem telling Barbara Gordon no. Maybe it was how persistent she was, or actually it was the way she’d glare if she didn’t hear an answer she liked; her green eye seeming to flare with some internal fire. But, he realized, it was probably the fact that she’d run his foot over again until he said yes. He gnawed on his lip, then finally give her a grin.

“You’re not gonna let me say no, are you?”

“I’d make you take a Lyft back to Metropolis so we could talk now,” Barbara responded as she inspected a fingernail.

“Lead the way,” Dick said, then fell into step alongside Barbara. He adjusted his umbrella so the majority of it covered her. Barbara caught him up on what she had been doing since he’d left, and he’d regaled her with stories about Lois literally pinning Clark to floor to keep him from flying out to save somebody else.

The bakery looked like it had dropped straight from the seventies. One wall was covered from ceiling to floor in brown-orange shag, the booths and tables were all bright orange, and the floor was stained brown vinyl. Dick took all of this in between watching her. She wheeled to the counter, greeted the cashier by name and placed their order. Her purple turtleneck was loose-fitting, the sleeves were frayed from her picking at it. The picking was a nervous habit she’d picked up during her time in the hospital after the Joker attack, which meant she had been having flashbacks, and they had been bad. Dick’s chest ached at that thought. He followed her to a table, reaching to move a chair out of the way for her.

“Don’t.” Barbara warned softly.

“Ah, shit. I’m sorry,” He apologized, letting go of the chair and stepping out of her way. He sat across from her, watching as she moved the chair to the side and wheeled into the empty spot.

“You’ve been thinking about it,” He began.

“Yeah,” she murmured, her eyes going to the table. “It’s not something you ever forget, Dick. Dad’s been there to help me; which has been great. But… he got out a week ago. Bruce called me and I just… it was like we were back in the old apartment. I couldn’t breathe, Dick. I couldn’t _move_. All I could see was that gun in my gut and all I could hear was his laughter.”

He reached across the orange painted table, taking her hand. 

“I’m still seeing that therapist. She helps a lot,” She sighed, squeezing his hand. “But I’ve been doing more at my other job. I actually picked up a case in Bludhaven that’s been left for dead.”

“Tell me about it?” Dick asked as the cashier placed their pastries on the table. They thanked him, then focused back on each other.

“Dick, this is a big one. I know you want to join the BPD, but their force is a new level of lazy. Over the past ten years, twenty people have gone missing in the same neighborhood of Bludhaven. The victims have nothing in common. Some are single moms, others are just drifters, rich; that is, for Bludhaven, poor, religious, atheist, all sorts of races and ethnicities. The only that they do have in common is that they’ve fallen off the face of the Earth. Now, I really don’t know that much about Bludhaven; Gotham keeps me entertained enough already. But, you know how Gotham’s selling point is crime?”

“Yeah.”

“Bludhaven’s seems to be corruption. I tried getting some informants so I could learn more, but I couldn’t even get close enough to bribe any of them. They’re corrupt and they don’t want to talk. Cops and criminals, both.”

“Sounds like a helluva case,” Dick grinned. 

“Could really use your help on it,” Barbara said around a mouthful of lemon cake.

“I need to get established as a civilian. I’m turning in my app soon for police academy. Once I get that and the apartments figured out, then I’m all yours.”  
She smiled. “I think you might make this work, Boy wonder. Bats or no Bats.”

Dick finally dug into his scone, moaning about its taste. “You know, the décor is pretty bad here,” He garbled. “But the food is delicious.”

“You win some, you lose some,” she laughed, wiping the corner of her mouth. A few strands of hair fell into her face, and Dick felt a twinge in his chest. He frowned, but then returned back to the mission at hand; destroying the scone.

Jim Gordon entered the shop twenty minutes later, arms laden with bags. He gave Dick an appraising look as he joined them at the table.

“Thought you were missing,” He greeted.

“Missing, run-away, there’s a lot of words for it.” 

“I’ll forget you were here,” Gordon grunted. He watched Barbara, seeing the first signs of her about to ask for something. “What?”

“I’d told Dick we’d give him a ride back to Metropolis,” She smiled.

“Any other things we’re giving to this wanted man?” Gordon asked dryly.

“Just a ride. Please?” She asked, deploying her pout. It had worked on her father since the day she learned how to do it from Robin. Gordon simply grunted.  
“Only if he helps carry the groceries—oh,” Gordon stopped. Dick had already picked up the majority of the bags. “Well. That settles that, then.”

 

The Zeta-tube announced Batman’s arrival. Clark and Hal were standing at the monitor, watching the screens that showed major cities all over the world. Hal elbowed Clark. The Man of Steel simply shook his head, knowing better than to bring up what was irking the bat. However, Hal Jordan had never been deterred in his life. He rolled his shoulders and used the ring to enhance his body armor, then turned to face the caped crusader.

“Batsy! You’re looking gloomy as usual. Maybe even gloomier.”

The bat didn’t respond. 

“Hello? Spooky?” He prodded, standing nearly in reaching distance of Batman.

“Any crises?” Batman asked, ignoring Hal.

“Bane’s making waves in South America. Hawkgirl and Hawkman are en route. Other than that, it’s pretty quiet,” Superman answered.

“Just like the watchtower is without the boy wonder,” Hal added. “How is Robin? Haven’t seen him up here in a while. Or in Gotham, or the news. Or, you know, _around_.”

The temperature of the space station dropped ten degrees. Clark let loose a loud sigh. He knew he should intervene but, the small part of him reasoned; maybe Hal provoking Batman would be enough to get the billionaire to see the error of his ways. He waited with bated breath.

“What business of that is yours?” Batman ground out.

“I mean, with Flash bringing on Kid and Oliver taking in that Harper kid, plus all those titan kids, I think it’d be a good plan to keep tabs on the next generation of heroes,” Hal shrugged.  
“There won’t be a next generation. Creating Robin was a mistake. Flash and Arrow will realize that in time. Move,” he added when Jordan stood in his way.

“Hmm. Yeah, no. I don’t believe that. We definitely need Robin around. He makes you nearly human.”

A black, gauntleted fist swung. Green Lantern crashed to the ground.

“Enough,” Bruce growled, standing over Hal. “Robin will not be returning. Don’t bring it up again.”

Hal jumped to his feet, fists held up. “A _sucker punch_?” He lunged forward, trying to hit him. Bat dodged easily, slipping behind GL. With a quick jab, the lantern was laying on the floor again in a nerve lock. He looked up at Batman furiously.

“Is this how you kicked out Robin? Hit him and put him in a nerve lock?” Jordan couldn’t move his body, but he could still move his mouth. “You owe that kid so much, Bats. Kicking him out was the—” A boot collided with his ribs.

Clark flew over, putting Batman in a headlock before he could hurt Hal anymore. “Stop it!” Superman ordered, all traces of the Kansas farm-boy gone. “Hal, leave him alone. Batman, I need to have a word with you.” He could feet Bruce kicking at him, trying to get free as he flew them out of the cortex of the space station and into one of the medical rooms. 

He dropped Batman in the middle of the room then blurred. He used his body to block out Batman’s only escape form the room.

Batman’s hand moved to his belt.

“I have Kryptonite.” Batman growled, his voice laced with rage.

“Do you think this is what Dick would want? You, beating up other leaguers for being right?”

“Don’t talk to me about _my son_ ¬¬—”

“You kicked him out, Bruce! You sent him from the manor for doing exactly what you trained and raised him to be. Do you know when he sleeps he still cries out for you? Even after everything that was said, that boy still needs you. Don’t give me that ‘ _He’s an adult_ ’ bullshit. You know, you know he’s just a boy. He looked up to you, Bruce. He worshipped the ground you walked on. You were his greatest hero—”

“You were!You were his greatest hero. That's why he ran to you.” Batman snarled. “and _don’t_ use my name!”

“I never was. Christ, _Bruce_ ,” Superman overrode him. “You taught him everything. How to be a good man. How to fight for justice and how to help the little guy. You managed to teach him to use his trauma for good. He’s done exactly that since he snuck out to bring down Zucco. You’ve showed him that being human is the most powerful thing in the universe. Not having powers, not just being rich. You taught him to use the good he sees in people. He does that. Every day. He helps out homeless people he sees on the street. He’s polite to everybody and I’ve yet to hear a negative word about anybody we work with come from his mouth. Then you took it from him. Every lesson you instilled in that boy. You ripped away the one thing that comforted him all these years and made him think that maybe his parent’s deaths weren’t as pointless as they originally seemed. He hasn’t even said negative things about _you_ since you kicked him out.

“I’m gonna say this once. You’re a better father than this. You owe that boy a lifetime of apologies for what you said to him. Then you owe him more for taking it out on the league. I know you’re scared, Bruce. He’s growing up and that’s the hardest part of being a parent. But driving him away? That’s not gonna make it better.”

“… Are you done?”

Clark shook his head. “Unbelievable. Yeah, I guess I’m done.” He finally moved out of the way.

Bruce stormed past him, the door opening with a quiet _whoosh_. 

_He’s right, you know_. Bruce spoke up from inside Batman’s mind. _We need him._

_You wanted me to kick him out. You wanted a better life for him. We agreed that it wasn’t a possibility if he continued in this life._

_…I know._

Batman felt a sneer curling on his lip. _You act like you’re the only one hurt by this. You’re not. So let me do what you created me to do; protect you._

With that Bruce receded, leaving control to Batman. There was a bitter taste in the Dark Knight’s mouth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> everybody get to del taco they got a new thing called fre s h a voca do
> 
> anyway i hope you enjoyed bruce punching hal as much as Bruce did
> 
> please review it helps feed my family (which consists of my dog, Lulu, and my laptop, Deborah) and a very happy batman day to all! bruce is a Good Dad but he's new at fatherhood and also terrified at the passage of time.


	4. give me your fuCKINg money (law and order bong bong)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter gets pretty graphic, so I'm gonna update the rating on this fic. TW for sexual violence, graphic depictions of violence, and just like.... really horrible shit. If you wanna skip, that's fine but if you want the gist of it, send me a message and I'll summarize what happened!

Dick got into police academy. Lois and Clark helped him move into his new place. Stephen offered to help, but his body odor had been just too much. They politely declined, saying that there wasn’t enough stuff for three people to move. Dick moved in his “sick” upstairs neighbor. His first night in the apartment was lonely. Outside in the smog filled streets, echoes of sirens and fights reached his apartment. He laid on his couch/bed, staring up at the ceiling. Eventually, he fell asleep.

A giant dragon landed in front of him. One had a flaming orange mane that ran the length of its body, from head to tail. It’s blue flamed filled eyes watched Dick as he approached, black obsidian nails scraping the dirt they stood one. Slowly, he reached a hand up to the dragon. The dragon’s maw opened, speaking in a language Dick had never heard. But somehow, he understood it.

“I’m not sure what I want to do.” Dick responded, his hand petting the dragon’s snout.

It rumbled some more.

“I want to make a difference. I want to help people. I can do that as a cop. But I already know that won’t be enough for me,” He sighed. “I don’t have Robin anymore. That’s gone, and I don’t have Batman. I haven’t been just Dick Grayson in so long… I’ve forgotten what it’s like. How- How do I find that again?”

“Kal-el told you the legend of Nightwing and Flamebird, did he not?” A new voice spoke. Dick removed his hand, looking around. The dream had become foggy. The only solid things he could see were himself and the flaming dragon in front of him.

“He did,” Dick answered, squinting.

“If there is anyone who deserves to take up my mantle, it is you, Richard Grayson.”

“Where are you?”

“Is this better? Apologies, I do not entirely understand how this,” A tall man appeared beside Dick, waving around to the dream. “Or humans work. I had hoped that Kal-El would have taken up my mantle, but he has far surpassed anything I had ever accomplished back on Krypton. But you and I are very alike, Richard. My father trained me to be a good soldier, a good man who followed orders. But those teachings only spurred on my fire. I wanted to be a good soldier, yes, but I also wanted to make a difference through his teachings. I brought up the idea of me, going out on my own and carving my own path with his teachings as my machete. But my father had trained me for a world he thought he could fix. The idea of him, not being able to stop all the horrors he had seen and one day leaving it to me was too much. He drove me out because he could not live with this truth. Krypton had begun its descent into the madness that would ultimately destroy it, and I was alone. I did what I had planned to do all along. I carved my own path. I met Flamebird,” he gestured to the dragon that was currently winding its tail around his arm. “and we fought for those who could not. Is that not what you want to do?”

“I do,” Dick murmured. “But I want to do it with him.”

“Who is saying that you can’t?”

Dick jolted awake. It was early morning, he guessed, from the faint light coming over the horizon. Nightwing’s words were ringing in his mind. The blue that the Kryptonian hero was wearing matched the edge of the sky. He took a deep breath, taking in the new day.

Police academy had kicked Dick’s ass. He was tired, his body ached, but after 21 long, long weeks, he was graduating. Dick sat in the aisles of his soon to be fellow officers, listing as Commissioner Gordon tried his best to sum up the past five months. Clark and Alfred had come to watch him graduate, and he could feel their proud gazes on the back of his head. Even Babs had come, sitting with them. It was nearly enough to forget that the person he wanted the most wasn’t there. With the past five months, there had been no improvement on the Bruce front. It hurt Dick. He was slowly becoming used to that pain. Around him, his fellow officers burst into applause as Gordon wrapped up his statement. They rose, took the oath, and after many handshakes, Richard Grayson was an officer. He waited in line to take his official graduation photo, Babs at his side.

“Another girl went missing,” she murmured. “I think it’s the same guy. It’s been two weeks since she’s showed up on any CC footage.”

“Jesus,” Dick whistled. “I tried asking my landlord about it. He said he’d never heard of people going missing. He’s heard of people showing up dead in Bludhaven, but not missing.”

“Are you still planning on working there?”

“Yeah,” He shuffled forward with the line. “Gotham still feels like No Man’s Land. Plus, Bruce already found a new one.”

“I heard.”

“It wasn’t his to give away,” Dick’s low voice was filled with betrayal. 

“I told him that. He said the kid needed a chance. But, that’s neither here nor there. You’re an officer now, and after this picture I think we’re gonna have a hard time getting you away from Clark and Alfred,” Her eyes went to the men, watching them impatiently as the line moved again. “Are you free tonight?”

“No, he’s not!” Rosa Keegan interrupted, slinging her arm around Dick’s shoulder. “We’re going out tonight to celebrate. You can come if you like! Party with Mr. Top-of-the-Class,” She laughed, punching Dick in the side.

Dick groaned, trying to pushed the dark-haired officer away. “Alright, Rosa. What do you say, Babs?” He asked.

She gave him a tight smile. “I think I’ll be okay. Rain check?”

“Sure,” Dick responded, noticing how stiff her shoulders had become. 

She left them, rather coldly, then wheeled off towards her father. Dick turned to Rosa, confusion etched on his face.

“Told ya the commish’s daughter was a stiff. Go on, Grayson. Time to smile for the cameras!” She shoved him, sending him stumbling.

Dick grinned, and the camera flashed.

 

Alfred took Dick, Clark and Lois out to lunch. They found a small bistro, offering small plates and lovely outside seating. Alfred sat next to Dick, nearly glowing with pride. Clark and Lois sat across from them, holding their mimosas high.

“To the best cop Bludhaven’s ever going to have!” Lois cheered.

“To Dick for beating the odds,” Clark toasted.

Even Alfred raised his coffee, looking at his grandson. “To becoming his own man.”

Dick blushed, mumbling his thanks. He sipped his water. Clark and Lois began talking about Metropolis, and Clark boasted about how Lois had managed to catch Luthor trying to make a deal with the Joker again. Lois simply grinned.

After lunch, Dick went back to his hole-in-the-wall apartment, waving hello to his landlord who was smoking on the stoop. He cleaned up, hanging his new uniform in the closet carefully before getting ready to meet with his fellow graduates. One of the sergeants was having a celebratory barbeque, and Dick hadn’t had true BBQ since his circus days. Finding a nice polka dot button up which he paired with some jeans, he decided he was ready. The sergeant’s house was in one of the nicest parts of Bludhaven, which meant it was a solidly middle-class neighborhood filled with cookie cutter slab ranches. Rosa was one of the first to notice his arrival. She bounded over, holding a can of Budweiser.

“Rich boy finally made it,” She grinned, trying to place the can into his hand.

“Rosa. I’m eighteen.” Dick laughed.

“Don’t give that kid any alcohol!” The sergeant shouted from over the grill. “We can’t lose our best cop this early. Rosa!”

Rosa sighed, cracked open the can and promptly downed it. “Guess that means Pretty Boy can’t come out to celebrate tonight, huh?”

“Nope. Like the Sarge said, we don’t want to lose our best cop.”

Rosa punched his shoulder. “Alright. Whenever you get off that high horse of yours c’mon and meet all the other mediocre cops that had the honor of graduating with you.”

“You should consider yourself lucky I picked you as my friend,” Dick laughed, following her over to the smattering of new cops. 

He introduced himself, finding it easy to strike up conversation with the other graduates. A lot of them came from poorer backgrounds and had grown up in the city. Nearly all of them were eager to get going on their careers, their heads filled with dreams of finally breaking down the corruption that had plagued their city for years. Dick felt good. He felt like he did back in the circus. Among his people, among people who understood him and his background and knew that it wasn’t just the amount of money that defined you, but the kind of character you had. It was something he had forgotten about after living with Bruce for just over a decade. As he dove into the bratwursts and burgers that were coming off the grill, he struck up a conversation with a Tonya Bennet.

“So, you’re Wayne’s kid, huh?” She asked, sipping a coke.

“Was. We had our differences. Plus, never really been one for money.”

Tonya watched him carefully. “Daddy issues?”

“Yeah,” Dick said. He poured a little more ketchup onto the bun of his burger. “You could say that.”

“That’s a crying shame. Listen, if you don’t want that airhead around whatever precinct you go to, just let the other cops know. We all gotta look out for each other. We’re all family. We didn’t go through all that not to be one. I know the other grads know I got an alcohol problem. They made sure there’d be drinks for me here. That’s the kind of support we all need, even kids like you.”

“… Thanks, Tonya.”

“Anytime, kiddo. Plus, I hear if we do well enough when we first start that the captains have some _other_ opportunities for us.”

Dick swallowed his bite. That didn’t sound good. However, Tonya simply got up, told him to have a goodnight, then left. The barbeque finally wrapped up, and Dick found himself staring at Barbara’s number on his phone. While the rest of the graduates would be off drinking and celebrating, he could either sit in his leaky apartment, or go hang out with a friend. He pressed dial.

“Dick?”

“Hey, Babs. You free tonight? Turns out they’re all going out to the bars. I don’t wanna get arrested before my first day as a cop.”

Dick could hear her smile through the phone. “It’s just me in the tower. Bring your laptop and some Thai.”

After Barbara had been shot, Bruce gave her the clocktower. It was one of the oldest buildings in Gotham and had the draftiness to prove it. However, it did have unparalleled views of the city. Wayne Enterprises tower’s shadow often loomed over it, keeping it cool during the day. But it showed the extent of the 300-year-old city. Parts of the city reflected it’s New England roots, while other areas were filled with 70’s concrete monstrosities that backed up to glass condos. Where Metropolis was all glass, Gotham was a gallery of architecture through the years. Dick and Barbara were sitting on the balcony, a bottle of whiskey between them and Thai in front.

“You did it, Dick.” She smiled, raising her tumbler.

“Was there any doubt?” He asked, clinking their glasses together.

“There’s always doubt with you,” Barbara laughed, reaching forward to grab some noodles. “But I am proud of you. From orphan to vigilante to runaway to cop. You’re gonna shake things up in Bludhaven. My dad already told me as much.”

“Does he want me to come to Gotham?”

“Does a dog want treats?”

Dick threw his head back and laughed. “Maybe one day. If I get tired of the Haven. But I don’t think I’ll be welcomed back into the crime-fighting side of this town for a long, long time.”

Barbara refilled their drinks, her lips pursed together as she thought. Below, the city was thrumming. Cars honked at each other, lights in apartments below them were flicking off for the night, people were fighting in the street. It was a normal night. But Dick didn’t care about that. He was watching Barbara. She had her hair pulled into a loose bun, with a few strands falling over the frames of her glasses. She had a communicator on the left armrest of her chair, _just in case_ ¬¬– She had said before they went onto the balcony. She was wearing pajama shorts covered in bat symbols and a black tank top. Dick couldn’t take his eyes off of her.

“—I don’t think you’ll be banned forever, I mean, it’d be pretty stupid of Bruce to not want to partner up with you again since he’s still got that stupid no Metas rule in effect.” Babs had been talking, and Dick was too busy staring to notice. He kicked himself.

“You would think. But since when has that man ever made a rational decision?”

“Mm, you’re right. Anyway, that’s enough about Gotham’s most famous grump. Guess what?”

“What?” Dick asked, glad that the subject had changed. 

“I’m starting a program for handicapped girls. It finds girls who are living in poverty that need help with day to day living right? Teaches them and their families how to help them care for themselves. I’m hoping to expand it to physical therapy programs, but this seems like a good place for me to start. I’m planning on working with Gotham’s inner-city schools first, then expanding out.”

“What made you decide to do it?”

“There’s been a few reports about how not accessible this city is for handicapped people. I know that for a fact. Really, only Wayne buildings are the only friendly buildings in town. The government buildings are accessible, but the rest of the city is not. I thought that if I started working with kids, starting pushing them to be better, we might have enough clout in this city one day to make a change. That’s what I wanna do. It’s not like I can go and fight crime in public right now; this was the best compromise I could think of. Why are you looking at me like that?” She stopped.

“You’re just so cool,” he answered. “I dunno why you’re friends with me.”

She sipped her drink. “Charity? Pet project? Jury’s still out, boy wonder.”

They wrapped up their dinner and moved inside. Dick handed her his laptop and she set to work rebuilding his firewalls and securities while he read over all of her information about the Bludhaven case she picked up. Dick poured over the details, his eyes scanning the autopsies she had pulled from the data-base. There was nothing linking any of the victims. There was one guy who’s only listed information was a big fat question mark.

“From what I could tell about that one,” She spoke up. “he used to be a porn star. He did some really specific kinks but he went through a Gotham agency that didn’t pay as well as it should have. He’s one of the more recent ones. He’s actually the one who really threw me off. The last couple of people they found were all pretty religious; not the kind of people to shoot snuff porn.”

“This guy used to live where I live now,” Dick frowned. “You know what? Stephen did say something about him when I first checked out the place. What about the others? Where did they live?” He moved around, looking at addresses. They were all apartments, but no one lived in the same building.

“Do you think it had something to do with where they lived?”

“Yeah, possibly. I… but no one lived in the same place as any another. God, Babs. This is so weird.” 

She hummed in agreement, then resumed typing on his laptop. He settled on the floor, just taking it in. His fingers drummed on the floor as he followed the red strings Barbara had set up from the first victim to the most recent. None of the deaths occurred on the same day, all the times of death were different. She had a map of Bludhaven which was covered in red X’s at each victims site of discovery and blue ones showing where they lived. Two people were found near their buildings, but the rest had been found all over the city. He rapped his knuckles against the floor, trying to release some of his frustration. Barbara finally finished typing and shut the laptop.

“There; that should be enough to keep Bats out. It looked like he did manage to hack in a few times, but I removed everything he left.”

“Thanks!” He jack-knifed to his feet. Dick went to her, putting his laptop away. “You’re the best. I should probably get going. Thanks for tonight, Babs.” He placed his bag down long enough to give her a hug. She hugged him back then went with him to the door.

“Don’t forget to come visit, Officer.”

He winked over his shoulder at her, then took the elevator down. He walked into night, feeling lighter than he had in months. He finally made it to the bus stop and sat on the bench. Pulling his phone from his pocket, Dick decided that maybe it was time to see how his dad, no- that wasn’t right, adopted father Bruce was doing. He pulled up the rattiest tabloids on his phone’s browser and ended up right in the rotting maw of the Gotham Scope. The first headline blared “BRUCE WAYNE? GAY?” and he figured he was in a good place. Throughout the article, the journalist spewed baseless claims, often citing Alfred as Bruce’s lover. There was even a picture of Bruce being herded into a car by Alfred while cameras flashed brightly around him. He finished the article just as the bus began rattling down the street towards him. It groaned to a stop and he swiped his card. Dick walked towards the back and sat on the sticky seat. He did have to give it to the journalist; even though the article was completely baseless he never once implied that Bruce had adopted Dick for his own nefarious purposes. Those rumors had spread like wildfire in Gotham and the surrounding cities tabloids, but after many lawsuits brought forth by Bruce’s legal team those had finally died. He was about to go through the website’s archive to read some more when a suggested article caught his eye.

_Robin, the Mean Wonder!_

Dick tapped on it. It expanded, showing a blurry picture of some kid wearing Dick’s Robin costume, flying between buildings.

But that was impossible. Because Dick had been Robin. Bruce had fired him. Robin was dead by all rights, killed by the man who helped create him. And why were they calling Robin mean? Robin was the positive punch to Batman’s surly kick. He felt his good mood vanish. Maybe he should go to the manor. Maybe he should go talk to Bruce about this. Robin wasn’t his to give away. Robin was Dick’s and Dick had made Robin out of respect to his parents. Whoever this kid was, he didn’t deserve the right to wear the _R_. He finally decided to read it.

_If you live in Gotham City then you’re familiar with the dynamic duo, Batman and Robin. Lately, Robin has been noticeably absent from their nightly crime fighting. But three days ago, he resurfaced with a mean streak as wide as the Gotham River. This Boy Wonder was seen by a bystander, kicking a downed criminal. The bystander then saw Batman fly down, grab the boy by the scruff of his neck, and then they were gone. Since then, the Gotham City Police Department has reported that the criminals are coming in with more concussions and more bruises. Commissioner Gordon declined to comment after he insulted this paper’s integrity,_

Dick laughed, having to pause as the image of Gordon insulting the reporter flew through his mind.

_What happened to Robin? Where is the laughing boy wonder? Is this new Robin somebody completely different? It’s this reporter’s opinion that it’s the same boy wonder. The same kid, just with a new attitude. Maybe crime-fighting with a man dressed as a bat finally broke his mind, leaving this abusive demon in it’s place. Gotham never needed Batman, but Batman needed a Robin that wasn’t abusive. Now that we have this violent Robin, who knows what will become of Gotham’s criminals._

Dick closed the tab. Tomorrow. He’d talk to Bruce tomorrow. Then maybe he’d talk to this new kid. If Batman really did have a new robin, that meant that the kid was living at the manor. He cussed, watching as they finally entered into Bludhaven’s city limits. After his conversation with Babs at the graduation ceremony, he’d hoped that this new kid would at least have been similar to him, but this article seemed to prove that Robin was not the Robin he’d made.

Dick was woken up early the next day by the sound of someone knocking on his door. Which was concerning, considering that anybody who needed to see him had to ring the doorbell first before being let into the building. He grabbed a batarang from the bedside table, slipping it into his palm as he silently approached the door. Belatedly, he realized that the sun was just starting it’s ascent over the horizon. He peered through the peephole.

Nobody was there.

Making sure the chain lock was in place, he opened the door. The ever musty, dimly lit hallway was devoid of life. The pull in his gut told him there was something else going on, but it was so early that he nearly wrote it off. Dick shut the door and went back to his bed. He laid down with sleeping impatiently forcing his eyelids shut when his phone blared.

“Grayson,” Rosa rasped into the phone. Apparently, the bars had gotten the better of her. “We need you to get down to the precinct now. They just found a body. It’s… It’s bad. Are you at your place?”

“Yeah,” He groaned, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. “I can be ready in twenty.”

“Make it ten. I’m already on my way.” She hung up, and Dick was left glaring at his uniform.

Rosa picked him up from the street, a cheap gas station coffee sitting in her Honda’s cupholder. She grunted at him as she tied up her hair. Having trained with Batman for more than half his life, Dick deciphered the grunt and responded with one of his one. Once her black brown hair had been removed from her face, they sped off for the precinct. She managed to hit every pot hole on the way there and spill the coffee all over the floorboard of the passenger side. By the time they arrived, Dick had his feet on the dashboard and a very irate Rosa sitting to his left. After switching to cruisers, they flipped on the sirens and raced to the crime scene.

The body had been found by a homeless person, floating half-bloated in the shore of the river. Caution tape was being unwound, setting up a crime scene that Dick knew would be too small. They crossed the line, finding a coroner and a few other officers pacing around. The other officers were seasoned cops, but from how green a few of them looked in the face Dick knew; it was a gruesome scene. They approached the body, slipping a few times in the black river slime. 

The victim was probably in his early thirties. He was a skinny guy who probably didn’t weigh more than 120 pounds sopping weight. Each finger was broken in different directions, stretching towards the heaven in a twisted prayer. His crotch had been slashed open, with cuts reaching down his thighs. As horrifying as that was, it didn’t compare to seeing the guy’s cervical spine through his throat. The knife was a heavy-duty knife that had been expertly sharpened, if the cleanness of each cut was anything to go off of. Dick was too busy taking this all in that he didn’t notice how Rosa ran to the riverfront to vomit.

Dick recognized this guy from Barbara’s board.

It was the porn star.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you thought this was going to be a cutesy dickbabs fic  
> well you were half right.  
>  I needed a little oomph to get this bad boy going. so i added a lot of oomph
> 
> also poll since APPARENTLY no one wants to review; how many unofficial dates do you want the losers to go on before they realize theyve been going on dates
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4asxm6susvA


	5. I am the sand guardian, guardian of the sand! (Poseidon quivers before him) FUCKK OFFFFFFF

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dick and Rosa finally get some field and paperwork experience, an insistent reporter tries dredging up some daddy issues, and Dick and Babs discuss combat.

When the detectives finally show up, the entire scene had been trashed. Dick could hear Bruce’s grumbling in the back of his mind, _the cops and the detectives always ruin the scenes. They think that police academy teaches them how to preserve a scene, but they always forget that when they cross that yellow line._

Good thing Dick had had more training, then. A few stray reporters had caught the scene of the murder, and were sniffing around the yellow tape, cameras pointed the police officers using their backs to shield the body. Bludhaven’s detectives stood over the corpse, speculating wildly as to who killed this man. One of the older detectives finally muttered; “This never used to happen before the sixties. Now they’re letting all sorts of trash on the force.”

Dick wanted to swing. Beside him, Rosa also tensed. This racism wasn’t new to Bludhaven. The sixties had been when Bludhaven had peaked, thanks to the government finally pushing desegregation.

“Officers,” one of the detectives with better tact began. “We’ll need to push this scene back. Can you get the reporters to get back?”

Dick and Rosa offered, walking forward. They pushed the grumbling reporters back, telling them that the precinct would release a statement soon and the only way they would get said statement was if they made their way to the precinct this afternoon. However, one reporter caught Dick’s eye.

Vicki Vale pushed her way through the crowd and marched straight up to Dick. She shoved her phone near his face, a victorious look on her face.

“Dick Grayson, Vicki Vale,” she unnecessarily introduced herself. “Tell me, what occurred between you and Bruce Wayne?”

Dick’s smile became tight.

“No comment, Miss Vale. Now, please move back so we can do our jobs.”

“Bruce never reported you missing, there was no statement about your sudden absence in Gotham, then you resurface in Bludhaven? Care to explain?”

Rosa stepped forward, puffing her chest out a bit. “Hey, lady, he said no comment. Now get back before I have you arrested.”

“For what?” Vicki taunted the same time as Dick muttered, “Don’t, Rosa.”

“You’re impeding a criminal investigation. You’re contaminating a live crime scene,” Rosa snapped.

“If you really want a statement to learn what happened, you’ll have to talk to Bruce. I won’t be answering any questions.” Dick finally answered, guiding her back to where the rest of the reporters had been moved. 

She winked at him, and then left the rest of the press hounds. Dick watched her go and finally continued with his task of pushing the crime scene back. Rosa was grumbling and hissing, her hair nearly frizzing with anger. Dick was trying his best to placate her, but his own fury was making his efforts weak. Dick could deal with racist cops. He dealt with people calling him gypsy trash and dozens of others of insults about the color of his skin and his heritage. It never got any easier, but the older he become the more he realized that some racist people would never see the errors of his ways. It still hurt like hell though. Now he had to deal with people complaining about Bruce’s faults to him. Bruce had made it clear that Dick was no son of his, so then why did Gotham’s populace think he was? As much as he wanted to tell Vicki Vale to fuck off, he knew that it would play right into the high society’s ideas of him. That he was undeserving of Bruce. That he was _poor_ and _crass_ and would never fit into Gotham’s echelons of wealth. But no one deserved that kind of treatment, and Dick thought he especially didn’t.

“Grayson,” Rosa snapped her fingers in front of his face. “I think we pushed it back far enough. C’mon. Help me with this tape.”

It took them longer than they cared to admit. They couldn’t find enough places to wrap the tape around, which led to arguing, which then led to Rosa chucking the roll of crime scene tape at Dick’s head. It hurt more than Dick cared to admit, but in the end they managed to put up one of the worst tapings of a crime scene Bludhaven had probably ever seen. More detectives and the coroner had appeared during their spat and were currently speculating wildly over the body.

“I want to be a detective.”

“What?” Rosa asked, her attention on the river. “You just started, Grayson. You won’t get detective for a while.”

“Your support is encouraging. I think I could do it. Bludhaven’s youngest detective?”

“I think the youngest detective in Bludhaven is probably 55, so even if you make it at 35 you’ll still make that goal.”

“I wanna do it by 22.”

Rosa laughed, her hands holding her stomach. Eventually, she started making a braying noise; which had Dick immensely worried for her lungs.

“Listen, if you can do it by 22, I’ll let you be my maid of honor at my wedding. Scouts honor!” She raised her hands up as Dick shot her a disbelieving look. “I swear on my mother’s grave.”

“Scouts honor and swearing on your mother’s grave?”

“I’m serious, Grayson.”

“Fine,” Dick stuck out his pinky finger. “I make detective by 22, you let me be your maid of honor at your wedding.”

She wrapped her finger around his.

They lingered around the scene, helping the detectives by bagging various things (all the wrong things, Dick thought to himself) and trying to find leads in the shores of the river. Finally, the detectives told the assembled officers to beat it, and they went back to the precinct together. When they entered, the secretary showed them to their desks and cheerfully dropped a stack of papers on each one.

“That’s for the scene today. I need all those filled out before you leave,” Cathy grinned. She paused to adjust her badge that boasted _SECRETARY_. “You know, Captain’s orders.”

By the twentieth page or so, Dick’s hand was really starting to cramp, like really bad. It hurt more than when Batman and Robin used to go out on three-week long missions. He glanced over at Rosa, who he guessed was his partner now? He wondered if he should figure that out. She was asleep, drooling on page seven of her report.

He chucked his pencil at her.

“Gah!” Rosa yelled, jerking awake. “What the—Damn it, Dick! That was a really good dream.”

“You can tell the Captain all about it when he wants your report.”

Rosa’s head tilted in confusion. She looked down at the pile she still had to go through. With a low curse she picked the pencil out of her hair and began chipping away at the report again. Dick resumed his checking of boxes and signatures, writing in dates and the various times he was at the crime scene; what he observed and heard. Briefly, the image of telling the Captain what the detectives had said when Rosa and him first arrived popped into his head, but it was gone just as quick as it had appeared. Dick didn’t want to be that cop that opened an internal affairs investigation on what was technically his first day on the job. Some battles aren’t worth picking, and some just need to be held at a later date. He filed this one under the later date category. He flipped to the next page, hearing the loud, rumbling, snores of some poor guy in the drunk tank. Pages were filled out, information was written, and time passed. Dick began to lose himself in the monotony of it, until his phone began ringing on his desk.

“Grayson,” He answered, looking at where Rosa had been sitting. He missed her leaving. 

“Why didn’t you call me the minute you found the body?” Barbara demanded.

“Hello to you, too. Yes, the first day is going great. Thank you for asking. How are you?”

“Dick, if this is going to be our case I need to be kept up to speed on all things happening. I can only do so much from here. A text! A text would have worked, too.”  
Dick affixed his signature to the last page of the report. “What’re you doing tonight?”

“Snapchat, or hell, I’d even take a DM on twitter. Wait, what?”

“I just finished up a report. Do you wanna come over?”

“Can I get into the building?” She asked.

Dick realized that she couldn’t. He was pretty upset by that. “I’ll come to you. Sound good?”

“I love the sound of that, boy wonder.”

“Watch it,” Dick mock growled. “People might start thinking I’m Robin.”

Barbara laughed, and Dick realized he wanted to hear more of that. She finally calmed down, and Dick could swear that the smile in her voice had enough brightness to rival Metropolis at any time.

“You do look very similar to him.”

“Should I be jealous that you’ve been spending so much time with that kid?” He stood up, aligned the papers and headed for Cathy’s desk. “I’m not afraid to fight for your hand. Like a knight. But I think I’m gonna have to pass on the jousting. I don’t think I’ll joust for your hand.”

“Who says I want you to fight for my hand?”

“Awh,” He murmured. Dick grinned at Cathy, set his papers on her desk and headed for the door. “You don’t want me to engage in a little fisticuffs for you?”

“Ugh. Fine. Fisticuffs _only_.” She relented.

“I’ll see ya, soon. You want Mexican?”

“ No, thanks. I have pizza rolls here. No entry without the files!” With that, she hung up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi friends sorry i've been MIA. I lost a childhood friend and then had a wedding, which is a weird juxtaposition of words and experiences but it seems to be what adult life is now. anyway, I'm posting the next chapter soon (as in as soon as this one is up)
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8N5B0DQ2eDo


	6. Are you crying?  no it's just raining

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> HEY I POSTED TWO CHAPTERS IN ONE DAY DON'T READ THIS IF YOU HAVENT READ CHAPTER 5 OKAY 
> 
> anyway this gets Emo As Hell.

Dick was destroying about 15 pizza rolls while Barbara was reading over the copies of the files he’d brought. Behind her sat the hub, where the police scanner was rolling by like a breaking news bulletin. He watched as attempted robbery, attempted rape, apartment fire, drug bust, and a million other usual crimes for the city flickered by. The night was still young, which meant that the city’s favorite vigilante had yet to make his nightly appearance. Dick had made it his priority to leave Babs before the big bad Bat checked in. But tonight, tonight he didn’t want Bruce to make him leave early. He wanted to spend time with Barbara, and he was going to stick around until she kicked him out. Dick reached for his water, washing down a mouthful of artificial meat and cheese as Babs finally spoke up.

“Didn’t you say the guy who used to live in your apartment was a porn star?”

“Yeah, I think it’s the same guy. I need to tell my landlord. Maybe he can tell me the kind of people this guy ran with.”

“That’d be helpful. But you still have to make that connection as a cop. It doesn’t make any sense to be interviewing his landlord out of uniform.”

“That won’t be a problem for long,” Dick grinned. “I came up with a new name; well, Clark helped me. He told me about this Kryptonian legend, Nightwing. He was either a dragon or a really kick ass vigilante, but in either version he saved people. I think I’ve got a good design for the costume. I just need to find a way to get it made.”

Barbara smiled broadly at him. “Tell me everything.”

Dick wiped his mouth, returning a smile that nearly blinded the redhead. As he rambled through the legend of Nightwing, she could understand why it rang so true for him. An exiled son wanting to do good? _Eat your heart out, Bruce,_ she thought as her eyes watched his every movement. Dick started into a dream of his, explaining how a massive dragon appeared and she was lost again. His cerulean eyes were nearly glowing with excitement, which was a look she hadn’t seen since she unmasked herself as Batgirl in the cave all those years ago. He looked _happy._

Which was, of course, when Batman decided to check in.

“Batman to Oracle,” Batman’s gravelly voice echoed through the apartment.

Dick went silent. Usually, Batman didn’t bother making use of the video-feed. He only ever called in on the radio. But tonight, Bruce was in full battle armor with the new Robin bouncing at his side. They were standing in view of the Wayne Enterprises Tower, which meant they were very close. Batman’s lips pressed into a near invisible line when he saw Dick.

“This is Oracle,” Babs finally spoke, trying to move in front of Dick. “What’s going on?”

“You know what? Call me later. There’s a robbery. Let’s go, Robin,” Batman pulled his grapple gun out.

“No, there’s not! Wh-“ Robin objected, looking from Batman to the alley. “Where do—”

“ _Now_ , Robin.”

Then they were gone.

Barbara turned to Dick, very slowly. His hands were clenched in fists at his sides, the effort of holding back his tears making the whites of his eyes red. She moved over to him, then gently took his hands into her own.

“Come here,” She whispered. “You’re okay.”

Dick slowly dropped to his knees, placing his head in her lap. She ran her fingers through his thick black hair, feeling the scars that his time as Robin had left just on his head. His arms curled around her legs, clinging to her. She could see his muscles tensing as he gripped her as tightly as he could manage. Sniffs soon gave way to soft cries. The cries were muffled by her legs, but the way his shoulders hitched and dropped were the movements of a boy tired of losing people he loved.

“I d-don’t know if-f I miss h-him or _hate_ him,” Dick whispered after a few minutes. Barbara’s hands were stroking his neck slowly. “He gave me everything then… took it away.”

“I know,” She murmured. “I _know_.”

“And seeing that kid? That…. God, I don’t… the kid is wearing my costume. Am I really that replaceable? Does Bruce just want another kid for Robin? He kicked me out because I was a liability. I wasn’t useful anymore. He- He… he doesn’t _need_ me. Jesus, Barb. I thought I meant more than that.”

Her hands moved back into his hair. She tugged gently, making him raise his head.

“You do. You mean so much more than I or anyone else can tell you. You were the first, Dick. The first time Bruce thought there could be good in the world again. The first child vigilante that lived through the life and came out good. Wally? Roy? All the others? Me? We all started this life because _we saw you_. You were bright. You are bright. You brought hope back to Gotham when Batman was trying to beat it out of the criminals he brought in. Dick, even through all of Bruce’s bullshit, you stood by his side. The Metas started trusting Bruce because you asked them to. Bruce started trusting others in this community because you asked him to. You mean the world to everybody. Bruce realized this and it scared him. It scares me, how much you matter to me. But I know that you can continue being great if you have people who support you the way you support them. Bruce has always been… difficult. You made him better. You made me better. 

“And most importantly, you’re my best friend. You stuck by my side after the Joker. You fought for me to continuing helping you in Bruce’s war when he didn’t want me. The world doesn’t deserve you. It never will. But you know what?”

Dick tried blinking new tears away.

“If you let Bruce break you in this way, I’ll lose a great friend. Be the man Bruce raised you to be. Be selfless. Be good. _Be yourself._ You’re strong, Dick; one of the strongest men I know. I’ll get the whole damn community here to tell you and show you what a good person you are. You may not be Robin anymore, but I used to be Batgirl. Now? I’m Oracle, and you’re going to be Nightwing. We’re the next generation, and we’re gonna do it so much better than our mentors. They started this war. We’re gonna finish it; you and I are going to make sure of that.”

She finally relinquished her grip on his hair. Dick’s face was red from tears, his eyes puffy. Finally, he laughed. Dick buried his head in her lap and cried softly, his normally strong, sure, shoulders trembling.

“Thank you,” He murmured against her thighs. “But you’ve got it wrong.”

“I’ve only ever been wrong once in my life, Grayson. It was when I thought I was straight in 7th grade.”

“Well, make it twice. Because I don’t deserve you.”

She swatted his head lightly. “We’re not gonna try to one-up each other, because I will win every time. Get up, let’s design a costume for you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me, feeling strong dickbabs emotions, crying in a coffee shop: they're just so beautIFUL  
> also me, killing Rick Grayson on sight: How dare you stand where he stood!
> 
> no vine today but this video i think captures all the emotions  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J0d7X_4YtNE


	7. *kermit voice* shawty I don't                               mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barbara and Dick handle emotions as well as Gothamites can, by running away from them screaming. Also, Barbara leans on her beautiful, loud, ear drum shattering goddess of an ex-girlfriend after the marathon sprint from said emotions.

They stayed up late to work on the design. At first, Dick wanted a big costume with a large collar and a deep V-neck. Barbara then spent 25 minutes explaining why having a deep V-neck costume not only made him look like a douchebag hipster but would also leave his chest open for attackers to shoot or attempt to re-carve his body. Dick disagreed by countering that the costume should be yellow and blue, because he was so light and spent most of his time in the air. Barbara tiredly reminded him that he was an agent of the night, a vigilante that needed to scare criminals.

“But you don’t see as many criminals during the day as you do at night! They’re scared of the sun,” Dick whined, flopping across her lap. 

Barbara looked down at him. The couch was too small to fit Dick’s lanky form and her own body, but they seemed like neither wanted to be separated from the other. She put her hand on his face, either trying to push him away or smother him. She wasn’t sure yet. 

“What? Are the criminals vampires now?”

“Supes has a bright costume,” he tried.

“Superman can also bench press the Earth. Can you?”

“I dunno, I never tried. I mean, I have been working out.”

She laughed, finally deciding not to smother him but instead push him off of her couch. “No yellows, maybe a blue—but not _bright_ blue. You’d look like Booster Gold if you did that. What if we did black and red?”

She had carried on as if she hadn’t just forced the boy wonder onto the floor. Dick glared indignantly up at her.

“May I speak now, O wise and all-knowing Barbara Gordon?”

“Do not get smart with me. I can kick you out.” The redhead warned.

Dick reached up, grabbing her, and yanked her down onto the floor with him. She fell on him with a shriek, her red waves falling around her face. Dick easily guided her to land on top of him, his hands resting on her hips. Her hands caught herself on his chest, her nails pressing into his chest softly. For a minute, they both laid there, trapped by Barbara’s curtains of red hair. She finally reached up, slapping his chest gently.

“You have no manners,” she tried to sound serious.

“I _was_ raised in a circus.”

“Mary Grayson raised you better than that,” She snapped, rolling off him. He let loose a short laugh, watching as she moved to lean against the back of the couch. Dick scooted over to her, placing his head on her left shoulder. Then, he kissed her shoulder.

It had felt so natural, so _right_ , but they still both tensed.

The temperature in the apartment seemed to drop. Dick and Barbara had tried this before, when they were younger and more vulnerable. Barbara had ended it, and they had both go on to date other people. Barbara found Dinah and Dick had found Kori.

“I’m sorry. I – I shouldn’t have done that,” Dick started to rise. “I didn’t mean… I… I’m just gonna go. I have work in a few hours. Thanks for eve—”

“It is late,” Barbara interrupted. She wasn’t looking at him. Her green eyes were focused on one apparently very interesting spot on the wall. “It’s fine, Dick. I get it, I was raised by a cop, remember?”

Formality. Everything was formal now. Dick had _fucked up_. He simply nodded, gathered up some of their sketches, then left.

Barbara was still sitting on the floor.

But the butterflies in her stomach were trying to lift her into the air. They had done this song and dance before and it always ended with Dick wanting more and she couldn’t do that. She wouldn’t do that. She told herself that she wouldn’t fall for the first boy she ever had a crush on. She was better than that. 

“Goddamnit,” She sighed, thumping her head back against the couch. “You’re better than this, Babs.”

Thankfully, there was no answer back. She lifted herself back onto the couch, then got into the chair. She snatched her phone off of the table, dialing Dinah’s number.

“What hour do you call this,” Dinah grumbled into the phone.

“End of patrol hour. Did you not go out?”

“I do like to sleep, every now and then. Besides, Ollie keeps taking all the good cases. I’m tempted to blow out his ear drums.”

“All the pundits are worried about Superman and Wonder Woman enslaving us, they should be worried about you deafening us,” Barbara said dryly.

“This is why you’re the smartest vigilante,” Dinah said proudly. “Why the late-night call? Missing me?”

“I’m always missing you, Dinah. I just… needed to talk to someone.”

There was silence. On the other end of the call, Barbara could her papers rustling and the sound of Dinah’s couch springs groaning. She’d never forget that sound, especially since Dinah and she had been the reason why it started groaning.

“Tell me everything, Babs.”

She does. 

Barbara wakes up the next morning exhausted. She called her father, then got to her computer with her coffee wedged between her thighs. She checked her email first, scrolling past all the spam e-mails from insurance companies promising to fully cover her from any sort of villain or super-villain account. Finally, she found that one of the grant writers that had been working on writing one that would start to make Gotham more accessible had finally gotten back to her. She read over the draft, marking a few edits before sending it back. The public relations teams from Wayne Enterprises had contacted her as well, wanting to help raise awareness. Barbara marked that one as read later. She sipped her coffee, switching to check the news. The was an article about a criminal who claimed Robin beat the snot out of him for “ _no good reason! I was only robbin’ a store is all._ ” She scoffed. Her stomach growled, and she finally left her hub for the kitchen.

When she opened the fridge, she simply stared at the eggs. Hungry, she decided, but not go through the effort of making eggs hungry. She shut that door, opened the freezer and pulled the Jimmy Dean microwave breakfast sandwiches out. She had a lot to do, and she’d eat when she was out in the city. As she pressed the buttons, Barbara thought about calling her father for lunch.

The sandwich spun and she decided that she had seen enough of men for the next twenty-four hours. The microwave beeped, and she pulled her sandwich out, dropped it on her lap and went to the table. As she ate, she accidentally got a whiff of her armpits. A shower was apparently in order before she left for the day.

An hour and a half later, Barbara was sitting outside of the clocktower, waiting for the car service to come pick her up. Business women and men rushed by her in suits, racing towards the economic district a few blocks from her, Starbucks and phone clenched tightly in their hands. The city always thrummed this early in the morning. Not even the villains were awake yet, so the early hours of the business day were always the calmest for this city. She loved it. Fernando pulled up in the black Mercedes van and gave her a wave. The van door slid open, and the ramp unfolded. She got into the van, made sure her chair was secure, then shut the door.

“Mornin’, Miss Gordon. How are you doing?”

“Morning, Fernando, and please call me Barbara. It’s okay, but other than that, I’m good. Busy day?” She asked as they pulled into traffic.

“Not yet. But from what I’m hearing from my other customers you’re about to make me a lot busier. Not complaining!” He laughed. “I hear you’re trying to fix up this city.”

“Trying is the key word,” She agreed. 

“It’s good, I think. Fix this city one thing at a time. You’re too smart for this town, Miss Gordon.”

“And you’re too smart to be driving people around. Are you still trying to get into Gotham University?”

“I’m working on my application now. I tell ya, there are so many T’s to cross and boxes to check. But I’m working on it. My mija helps me too. She likes to add drawings on the applications. So, I have to give her fake ones.”

“How is Daiana?”

“She is feisty. But since you told me about that Wayne daycare stuff I’ve been able to get another job. That’s a great place,” He pulled over. “I can’t thank you enough, Miss Gordon.”

“Don’t,” Barbara smiled. “I just pointed you in the right direction. You’re the one doing all of the work. Have a good day, Fernando. Tell Daiana I say hello,” She handed him a tip, exited the van when the ramp was down. Barbara had a meeting in City Hall today to discuss her plans to make Gotham more accessible. Her father had offered to throw his weight into her fight, but she had made it clear this was something that she wanted to accomplish by her own right. He had backed up, and Barbara had set up meeting with each of the council members. The meetings would last all day, and she wasn’t leaving until they had promised to help her.

Barbara was at City Hall until 9 at night. The security guard had to escort her from the building.

“I am sorry, Miss Gordon,” She began, guiding Babs to the door. “I agree with ya, but you know how they are.”

“They’re cowards?” Barbara offered. 

The guard laughed. “Yeah, they are. And thieves. But you come back tomorrow and the day after that and I’ll make sure I’m here. I want to help you get this thing done. I only heard part of it, on account of me not wanting to kick you out, but I got a cousin who can’t use her legs so good. She’s got a helluva problem getting around this city.”

They finally made it outside. Barbara turned to face the guard. “Could I use you for a quote? The more stories I have of people struggling in this city the more backing I can get.”

“I don’t see no problem with that. So long as I don’t lose my job.”

“I’ll make sure you don’t,” Barbara reached her hand out. “I never got your name.”

She shook her hand. “The name is Angie. Hang on, let me write my number down for you.”

After trading information, Barbara finally left. She hailed a taxi and went home. Then, she found herself staring into her fridge. There was food in there, a lot of it good, but she still didn’t have the energy to make any of it. She shut the door and pulled up the Postmates app on her phone, deciding to order some chicken curry from the small, family owned Indian restaurant a few blocks down. She briefly considered starting her night early as Oracle. Then she remembered Bruce’s cold tone yesterday towards Dick and decided that Batman would have to do tonight on his own. Her couch was beckoning, and Barbara couldn’t refuse its demands. Once she was settled she turned on the television, flicking through the channels. Dinah texted her.

_Hey._

_What’s up?_ Barbara responded.

 _Whatre you doing tonight?_ The reply from Dinah was nearly instantaneous.

_Nothing._

_I figured. I met your delivery guy outside. Lemme in_

_Hang on. Give him a tip, will you?_

_You owe me_. Dinah texted back.

Barbara got off the couch and went to buzz in Dinah. A few minutes later she walked in. Dinah was sporting a black eye well hidden by makeup, but she looked her usual stunning self. Barbara took a deep breath.

“Oh no, did I turn you on just by walking in?” Dinah teased. She followed Barbara into the apartment.

“No, I’m just tired of stunning blondes always asking to come see me.”

“I would be offended if you hadn’t just called me stunning.”

Once they were settled on the couch, Dinah’s arms resting behind Barbara on the couch and the tv on low volume, they dove into the food.

“Clark’s been putting Bruce on this hell schedule for the tower. It’s hilarious to watch. Bruce tried arguing with him about it, right?”

“Yeah?”

“Clark just pulled up footage of Dick at Bludhaven and turned in the chair. Ollie lost it. What else has been going on….” She played with a grain of rice. “Diana said there are a few other Amazon girls who want to come to Man’s land. The league reacted about how well they do to more women heroes. So, Diana brought them anyway. There’s this one girl, red hair and a fire in her that you wouldn’t believe. Hawk Girl said she was impressed with her. Her name is Artemis and she seems pretty violent but has a good heart. If Diana doesn’t mentor her I might.”

“Honestly, of all the places I expected gender norms, I didn’t expect it in a group with aliens and superpowered beings.”

“Right?” Dinah laughed. “Ah, well. We’ll just have to start a coup.”

The amount of curry steadily dropped as they talked. Eventually, they found a _Law and Order,_ marathon. Settled together, the old friends watched as New York detectives quipped over corpses. Barbara didn’t realize she was asleep until her dream started.

_Someone is knocking at the door bang bang bang bang she doesn’t want to open the door because she can smell the gun powder and the rot of teeth and flesh and hear the giggles all the laughter and taunts and pleas for her to come out just come out this one time shes moving in the dream her legs work the gun hasn’t been fired yet so shes walking but she doesn’t want to because on the other side of the door is a monster there's a gun and a chair and there's pity there's so much pity so her hand lands on that worn brass knob and she turns it but doesn’t pull because she doesn’t want to and the stench is getting stronger and there are fingers rattling the door knob on the other side and she knows she shouldn’t open it so she tries to stop herself no Barbara no don’t do this just keep the door shut_

_“Hey,”_

_This is new. No one has ever spoken in this dream before so she doesn’t look because no one is there no one is coming no one comes to help you're alone like always Barbara  
“C’mon, Babs, it’s getting late. I took the comforter out of the dryer and we only have a few more minutes before it cools off.”_

_“I have to open the door, Dick,” Barbara whimpered. “I always open it.”_

_“You don’t have to, Barbara. We can leave it shut. Mary’s already in bed. C’mere, big mama.”_

_Barbara looks down and suddenly she’s pregnant and, in her chair, and Dick is standing there, black hair and a 5 o’clock shadow then suddenly Barbara hears a little girl’s voice calling for her Mama and Dick can’t stop grinning. There’s a smart gold band on his left ring finger and it’s the hand he’s reaching out to her._

_She takes his hand._

“Wake up, hon,” Dinah murmurs, running her fingers through Barbara’s hair. “It’s just a dream.”

Barbara stared up at her friend. “I think I’m in love with him, Dinah.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow hey sorry it's been like three weeks!! depression is a bitch babey!!!
> 
> I felt like a good apology would be this babs centric chapter. I've had enough of whiny ex-circus now billionaire boys but dont worry! I'll be posting two more chapters today and at some point we will return to every one's favorite angst lord in training. (also i forgot to mention that bab's line about only ever being wrong in her life is based off of me, when i thought I was bi in middle school BUT SURPRISE, i turned out to be lesbian.)
> 
> here's the vines ya animals
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2BS3oePljr8
> 
>  
> 
> anyway please kudos and review!! it feeds me so well.


	8. Road work ahead? Uh, Yeah, I sure hope it does

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> angst angst angst with a side of scared orphans and hot amazonian princesses with a midwestern flair

Barbara Gordon woke up the next morning trapped in a thicket of blonde hair. She spit a few strands out of her mouth and pushed Dinah’s sleeping form off of her. Her neck was sore. Barbara reached for her wheelchair, pulling it in so she can go shower. She heard Dinah walk in, and heard her turn on her electric toothbrush. Barbara sighed, poking her head out from the curtain.

“Just because you used to use my toothbrush doesn’t mean that you still can,” She griped.

Dinah gave her a thumbs up.

She shut the curtain. After her shower, they ate breakfast together. Dinah kissed on her on the cheek when she left, telling her to give Dick a call.

But she didn’t. Instead, Barbara sat in her apartment, listing all the ways she was failing the Bechdel Test. Number one? She couldn’t stop thinking about him. God, she wanted to. She had enough of Dick Grayson, the boy wonder. Number two? All the signs she was desperately trying to ignore kept pointing her right back at Dick. Even after their failed relationships, they always found a way back to each other. Each time, Dick was more loving. Each time, Barbara pulled more into herself; she couldn’t lose him, so it was easier to keep him at arm’s reach. She knew he deserved better, and he had seemed happy dating Kori while she had found her sanctuary with Dinah. But that was just that; dating. There were probably more ways, but she was already too exhausted to explore them.

The day had just started and she was ready to call it quits. Barbara huffed, headed for the cortex, and decided to lose herself with vigilantes who were more brawn than brain.

“This is Oracle, signing on,” She spoke after she put her headset on. “Watchtower, report.”

“You’re getting an early start!” Flash answered immediately. “I’ve got about two more hours before I’m done.”

“Morning, Flash,” she smiled. Flash was one of her favorites and she thought he knew it. “How’s it looking?”

“Ope, shit,” he replied.

“That bad, huh?”

“Oh, no. Sorry, I spilled coffee all over my lap. It’s looking alright for now. But Bats is on duty next so… he’ll probably sniff out some major drug cartel or trafficking ring. I hate it when he’s on duty; I never get any rest. It’s always ‘Flash, go save that kid’ ‘Flash, take that bomb to the desert’ ‘Flash, stop eating all the pizza’. Guy’s a real buzzkill, I’ll tell ya that.”

Barbara waited patiently for his monologue to end.

“But yeah, the planet is as okay as it ever is.”

“Glad to hear it. Have you seen Bats recently?” She asked. _Tread carefully, Babs._ She cautioned herself.

“Since he took on that new Robin? He seems less violent but more exasperated. The kid’s a punk. I like him. But I can tell he still misses the first Robin. We’ve tried talking about it, but—”

“Talking to Batman is like talking to a brick wall,” Barbara finished for him. “I haven’t really met the new kid yet. He’s got rough edges, that’s for sure.”

“Tell me about it. He punched me for making a dad joke,” Barry paused. “How’s uh… the first Robin doing?”

“He’s coming up with new ideas. He’s planning on taking on a new mantle soon. Supes really helped him with that. But Bats and he have got to fix what happened. They’re too good of a team not to work together.”

“I agree. Alright, I should probably flick through the feeds one more time. I’ll ring if I get anything. Flash, out.”

“Same here, Flash. Oracle, out.”

Barbara leaned back in her seat. It was early, which meant that Gotham’s scum had scurried back into their hidey-holes, waiting for the sun to set so they could emerge. They were a lot like vampires, she realized. Sleeping during the day, striking fear into the good working heart of Gotham at night. Her camera paused at the intersection of Dick’s street. The neighborhood was quiet as usual with Dick’s landlord dragging a body from the alley-

“Oracle to Robin!” She shouted into her earpiece. Did Dick still have his comm? She hoped he had it. Unless that was one of the things that Bruce had taken. She didn’t have time to think about it. Barbara cussed, leaving the cortex and rushing for where her phone sat on the kitchen table.

“Fuck!” She shouted when she was halfway there. She forgot to set the computer to record. Now she’d have to hack into Bludhaven’s CCTV after making sure Dick was alive, then somehow get that footage to BPD, and Dick _wasn’t answering his phone_.

She cussed, redialing his number.

“Hey, you’ve reached Dick Grayson. Sorry I missed your call, if you can leave your name and number after the beep I’ll call you back when I get a chance. If this is Vicki Vale, I still have no comment.”

She hung up and dialed again.

And again.

And again.

She tried. So many times. Calling and yelling into his voicemail, insulting him, demanding he call her back.

Five minutes became ten, ten became twenty, and twenty became forty-five. She didn’t want to do this, she didn’t want to call Bruce but she had just seen Dick’s landlord dragging a body from his apartment building and the rational part of her brain yelled _take a closer look at the footage, make sure it’s not him_ but she didn’t have time for that so Barbara Gordon did the unthinkable and called Bruce Wayne.

“Wayne,” His low voice rumbled into the phone.

“I can’t reach Dick,” she began. “I don’t know if something happened. I… I saw his landlord dragging a body outside of his building and I can’t reach him, Bruce.”

“He’s fine.”

“How the hell do you know that?” She snapped. How could he be cold at a time like this? She wanted to reach through the phone and strangle him.

“Because if he was dead, his heart wouldn’t be beating. He’s fine, Barbara.”

“Jesus, you injected him with more than a tracker, didn’t you?”

“It was necessary at the time. Like it’s necessary now. Anything else, Barbara?”

She wanted to shout through the phone, _have you considered apologizing?_ But she knew how that would make the conversation end. And one heart-attack from a bat was all she wanted today.

“No. Sorry to bother you,” her finger moved to hang up when she heard Bruce clear his throat.

“…is he okay?” Bruce asked. His voice was soft, unsure. Bruce was never unsure. Not even as Brucie Wayne. But this question revolted Barbara. Here was Dick’s father, asking her how _he_ was doing? No. She was not about to become the middleman.

“Why don’t you call him and ask him, since he’s still alive?” Then she pressed the end call button. She placed her phone down. It started buzzing.

Dick’s name popped up on the screen. She picked it up.

“You’re an asshole.”

After Dick apologized about 5,000 times, she finally relented and told him what she saw. Dick immediately wanted to investigate the landlord’s room. She had to remind him that he wasn’t a vigilante yet, and he had no earthly reason to be in there as a cop, which meant he had no cover if his landlord came back in.

“You don’t have to be right all the time.”

“I do, Dick,” She grinned into the phone. “Because you’re wrong all of the time. You would think for a kid who went to Gotham Academy you’d be smarter.”

She heard him huff angrily on the phone. “Okay, _Bruce_.”

“That’s a low blow and you know it.”

“Mr. Wayne, will you let me know when Barbara gets back? I like—wait.”

Barbara waited. Her computers were still focused on Dick’s block. She waited some more. Dick didn’t say anything else. Finally; “What?!”

“He’s…. calling me?”

“Your landlord?” She asked. Then; “Bruce is!?”

“I shouldn’t answer. I shouldn’t talk to him, right; I mean, he only kicked me out and disowned me. Answering it… it means he wins,” Dick’s voice was unsure. “He replaced me. He shouldn’t need or want to talk to me.”

“Um…” She heaved a sigh, knowing what she was about to tell him would send him over the edge. She had not only called Bruce, but called Bruce with the idea that Dick was either dead or dying. It wouldn’t be outside the realm of Bruce Wayne’s mind to immediately call his first son. “That might be my doing.”

“It went to voicemail—wait. Why would Bruce be calling me?” His voice had that edge again. His voice dripped with bubbling anger, tainted with confusion. Maybe betrayal was the word she was looking for. She swallowed. The pacing she’d heard through the other end had suddenly stop. Dick was still. Dick was getting mad.

“I called him this morning. I thought… thought that the landlord had you. I panicked. You weren’t answering your phone and I couldn’t sit by while—”

“You called Bruce?” He interrupted.

“Don’t interrupt me!” She snapped. “I was trying to make sure you were still alive. Bruce was the only who would know beside Supes. Yes, okay, I called him. I needed to know if you were alive. He let me know that you were.”

“I have to go, Barbara. I’ll talk to you later.” He hung up.

“ _Dick_ ,” she hissed, slamming her phone down. Barbara glared at it. She considered calling Bruce. Her fingers reached towards the phone. She should call Bruce. If Dick wouldn’t do it, then she’d get involved. This was ridiculous and unbecoming of these two men she respected. But her phone rang suddenly. It was the manor.

Bruce was at his office. She had called him at his office. It took him near two hours to get back to the manor so even if he had left his building and gone home, he would still be on the road. Barbara groaned, answering it.

“Hi, Alfred,” She began. “Dick is fine.”

“It’s always Dick,” A childish voice snapped. “Alfred doesn’t know I’m calling you. I- I need your help, Oracle.”

Barbara nearly bit her tongue off in surprise. “What’s wrong, Jason?” She asked.

“I totaled Bruce’s Porsche. The Porsche.”

Barbara told Jason she’d be there soon. She then called Fernando and found her and her friend hauling ass out to Wayne Manor. Calling Dick had crossed her mind, as well as calling Alfred but she needed to see the damage before raising all the alarms. As they left the city limits, the highway shrinking from a 12 lane to four lanes and the skyscrapers giving way to the massive pines she wondered just how Jason had managed to get one of Bruce’s cars out of garage and ram it into a tree. He was young, and Dick had done the same thing one of his first weeks at the manor but still. She had thought that Bruce had beefed up security since that incident. They arrived at the gate to the manor, a massive iron fence with a large W perched on the top. She typed in her code and briefly considered typing in Dick’s to see if it was still active. The gates swung open, the lack of the hinges screaming reminding her of the wealth that Bruce had to his name. They sped up the winding drive, finally arriving at the dark, cherry, red wood that led into Wayne manor. She tipped Fernando, said she’d call him when she was ready and was rushing into the manor as fast as she could.

“Jason?” She called.

No response. She delved further into the manor, checking the study, the kitchen, and finally found the boy curled into a small ball on the bathroom floor next to the stairs. His eyes were red, nose was running and he was shaking so hard it was like he was experiencing his own personal earthquake.

“Hey, Jason,” She murmured. “My name is Barbara.”

“I-I know-w,” He hiccupped, using his hands to attempt to wipe off the tears. “Bruce told me you were a good person. I… I wrecked his car.”

“Let’s take a look at it. Can you show me where it is?” She reached out slowly.

Jason flinched back from her hand, his chest heaving. “In the back. It’s…. it’s wrapped around a tree.”

“C’mon,” she urged, wiggling her fingers a bit. “Come with me. Let’s see what we can do, okay?”

She finally managed to get him off of the floor. They went out the French doors in the dining room, going down the path towards the pond. Jason’s shoulders still trembled from time to time, but his walk was that of a boy who was trying to be brave. They finally arrived at the scene of the crime, and Jason was right. The 1955 Porsche was indeed wrapped around the tree, it’s sleek black form attempting to hug the wood of the oak. She moved around it, taking in the shattered glass that littered the ground. This wasn’t something she could fix. Clark, maybe, with his strength might be able to free it.

“He’s gonna kill me,” Jason moaned.

“He won’t. He’ll be mad, but he can just buy a new one. Besides, Dick stole this car when he was new to manor. He’s used to little boys stealing his toys.”

“… Dick stole it?” he asked.

Barbara smiled. “He did. Out drove the cops by the Kane bridge. Let me call Clark. He might be able to help.”

Clark didn’t answer. She called Diana instead.

“This is Diana Prince,” The amazon purred into the phone. Barbara tried to stop the shiver that ran down her spine at her voice.

“Hi, Diana, it’s Barbara. Can you come to the manor? I’ve got a little bit of a problem here.”

Jason was curled in on himself, still shaking when the Amazon princess touched down. She clasped Barbara’s shoulder as she took in the wreck.

“You’re lucky to be alive, little one,” She finally spoke.

That snapped the black-haired boy out of his guilt spiral. He looked up at Diana, jaw-dropping. His eyes were as wide as platters as he took in the woman standing next to Barbara. She was all muscle, all beauty, and all seriousness. He briefly felt bad for the criminals that had to deal with her.

“I am?” He asked, finally finding his voice.

“You are. I think I can fix it.” With that, she strode forward and pulled the car from the tree. It took her a little bit of time to unbend the car, pulling the metal back into place. Twenty minutes later, the car had been bent back into shape and only bore a few scratches. She wiped her hands on her leggings, grinning proudly. Jason’s shaking had finally stopped, and he was leaning against Barbara as the Amazon took a step back.

“There. Now you only have to explain the scratches. Did you learn?” She asked, pinning Jason to his spot.

“Only take the Porsche on the road?” Jason tried.

“You’re twelve, Jason. You shouldn’t even be driving,” Barbara murmured.

“Dick was driving at 12!” Jason blurted, his cheeks flushing with anger.

Barbara thought that was interesting. Was he jealous of Dick? Diana shot her a look, then smiled at the boy. She walked forward and dropped down to one knee, putting her hand on his shoulder.

“You have been a vigilante for a shorter time than him. Give it time, Jason. You’ll be a great Robin, but only if you give it time; and tell Bruce about this. He won’t kill you, I won’t let him,” Diana promised.

“…Fine,” was muttered back petulantly.

She squeezed his shoulder once more, then leaned down to hug Barbara. “We should get coffee soon.”

“It’s a date,” Barbara promised.

With that, the Amazon princess took the sky, leaving Barbara and Jason with a severely scratched up, but intact 1955 Porsche 356 A Speedster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!! we're back to saturday updates because i totally FUCKED UP with nano!!! woooo!!!!
> 
> also big ups to darla for editing this shitshow and calling me out on my nonsensical sentences (ur a goddess, i dont deserve you)
> 
> anyway, i think we would all get turned on by Diana Prince just answering the goddamn phone. Plus, Barry uses the royal Ope. here's the vine and hope you enjoyed the long chapter (plus since dickbabs week is coming up, expect to see more content of DC comics biggest losers in love coming from me soon!!)
> 
> (plz review and validate me)
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6AYv6rV3NXE


	9. daddy? do i LOOK LIKE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> daddy issues are in full force tonight gang

They returned to the manor. Jason had stopped shaking so much, but every now and then a small tremor would make his shoulders tremble. Barbara still hadn’t called Bruce, but he’d be home in a few hours. They were sitting in the den, Jason sitting in Bruce’s recliner with his legs propped up while the fireplace sat cold in empty. When Dick had been living in the manor, Alfred kept the flames going nearly year round, due the fact that upon the young acrobats arrival into the manor he had nearly climbed up one of the chimneys. She excused herself, crossing the dark wood floors to the kitchen. Once she was there and convinced she was alone, she dialed Dick.

“Hey, you’ve reached Dick Grayson. Sorry I missed your call, if you can leave your name and number after the beep I’ll call you back when I get a chance. If this is Vicki Vale, I still have no comment.”

“Hey, Dick. It’s Barbara. Listen, I’ve got a situation here at the manor. I can’t explain more right now. But give me a call as soon as possible. Please.”

She pocketed her phone just as Alfred walked into the kitchen, arms loaded with groceries.

“Miss Gordon,” He greeted, nearly dropping a gallon of milk on the floor. “This is unexpected.”

“Sorry, Alfred. Jason had a question and I figured it was high time for me to meet him. Do you want some help with that?” She offered.

“I assume you mean the scratched up Porsche sitting in the garage. That is a rather serious question. And, no, thank you. I’ve got this,” He smiled, setting the last of the reusable grocery bags on the counter. “Have you alerted Master Bruce?”

“No, I didn’t. I gave Dick a call though. I thought it was time the two brothers met each other, officially. Maybe they could bond over stealing Bruce’s favorite car.”

“Master Dick should arrive here the same time as Master Wayne. How… fortuitous.”

“… Do you think it’s too much?” Barbara asked, suddenly unsure of her plan. She looked to her old friend for guidance. Alfred just smiled.

“Miss, I think it’s the right amount. Those two, dear, bull-headed boys have to face the consequences of what was said all those months ago. I’m glad it was you, though; Master Wayne can’t fire you.”

Alfred was right, Barbara realized after Bruce walked into the manor a few minutes after Dick. He couldn’t fire Barbara, because Barbara wasn’t his butler. He could, however, go so pale with rage that he could give a vampire a run for its money. Instead of yelling, Bruce just fixed Barbara with a glare so cold and biting that it made her spine shiver. She turned to Dick. Dick was also starting to glare at her. The only people in the manor who were currently not glaring at her were Jason and Alfred. Jason was too busy staring at the infamous Dick Grayson and Alfred seemed to just be soaking it all in like a cat in a patch of sunlight.

Finally, Bruce broke the silence with a cold: “Barbara.”

“Bruce,” she replied, just as cold.

“Why are you here?”

“Jason called me. Since you never introduced us I thought today was the day. He’s a nice boy.”

“Hn.”

Dick had finally turned his attention to the black haired boy. He was squaring him up; eyes roving from the top of Jason’s dark-haired head to his skinny shoulders, down to his feet. Jason looked out of place. He looked like he had just left Gotham’s cluttered streets and wandered into the extravagance that is Wayne manor.

“I thought you’d be bigger,” Jason started. “You’re kinda shrimpy.”

“You’re three feet tall,” Dick responded.

“Nuh-uh! Alf say’s I’m due for another growth spurt. I’m gonna be bigger than you.”

“Sure you are.” Dick waved his hand.

Barbara didn’t like how _cold_ Dick sounded. Normally, he was a kid-whisperer. Two minutes with any kid, and Dick had them doing flips with him and cracking bad jokes. But the tension that radiated between Jason and Dick was too much, it was too angry and confused and she hated it. Barbara rolled her eyes.

“Bruce, I need to talk to you… _alone_.”

The billionaire nodded and they left the two new brothers to their staring contest in the foyer. Once they were secluded in the den, Barbara wheeled on Bruce. He had already taken his seat behind the desk, as if this was another business meeting, as if the two boys standing in that drafty entryway were just two competing acquisitions.

“How can you stand there when those two boys see each other as competition?” She finally asked.

“They don’t see it that way.”

“Bullshit, Bruce. Those two should be best friends. Those two should be talking and learning and becoming the family you quietly want it to be.”

Bruce leaned forward. “Dick left, Barbara. He moved out. I gave him his space so he could… do what he wanted to do. I don’t approve of the career path he’s chosen, and I won’t. But Jason is a different boy and I didn’t want him… ending up like Dick.”

“ _Ending up like Dick_?” Barbara whispered. “What in _god’s name_ does that even mean?”

“I won’t lose another son, Barbara. He’s already Robin, jesus, I couldn’t stop him from becoming Robin. But I was worried that if he met Dick, he’d want to continue doing this life. I don’t want any of you to continue doing this; I don’t want to keep doing it. But he’s so young and impressionable and I was worried that Dick would…”

“You don’t even know why you didn’t want them to meet, do you?”

The Billionaire was quiet.

“I know Clark has told you, but I’ll tell you; Dick has been miserable these past few months. You were his hero, Bruce. He looked up to you and deferred to you. All Dick has wanted was to make you proud. That was it. Then you fired him for doing exactly what you raised him to do. He’s already lost two parents, and right now I can tell that he feels like he’s lost you. He’s alone. He’s scared. And there isn’t anything that Clark or me or even Alfred can do to try to fix him. You’re his father, Bruce. It’s time you started acting like one. If you don’t… well, Dick won’t be the only son you lose. That’s a promise.”

“Get out of my house.”

“I’m going. But,” she wheeled back from his desk. “Jason wrecked your Porsche. That’s just a car. If you keep up with this shit, imagine what I could do.”

With that, Barbara left the office. She went down the main hallway, pausing outside of the kitchen where she could hear laughter.

It was Dick and Jason.

She sneaked a peek around the frame, seeing the boys with their hands in the cookie jar. Dick looked around the kitchen, making Barbara duck back behind the wall.

“Alfie’s gonna tell you that this is the _only_ cookie jar in the kitchen. And that’s true. But he has a spare in his quarters. Since he’s outside in the garage, I’ll show you where it is. Follow me, Jay.”

Barbara heard Jason’s soft whoop of joy, and then waited till their footsteps trailed out of the kitchen. Behind her, Alfred had appeared, holding a dirty rag. He was smiling.

“Master Jason made a pun, that’s what won Master Dick over. I knew they’d be good friends,” He hummed, placing a hand on her shoulders. “Did you threaten Master Wayne?”

“Yeah,” she hummed. “I just don’t want him to forget who I am. Anyway, he just kicked me out, so I’m gonna get Dick from your room and head out. Good luck,” She reached up and squeezed Alfred’s hand.

“Why are they in my room?” Alfred asked as she started to leaving. “Bloody hell, the cookies. _Master Dick_!” Alfred shouted, rushing past her towards his quarters.

From deep within Alfred’s room, Barbara heard a panicked; “get out! Go!” and then the boys were tearing past them, a cookie in each hand. She burst into laughter as they thundered up the steps while Alfred tried and failed to keep up with them. Dick finally poked his head through a railing a few minutes later, chocolate smeared on his lip.

“Is he gone?” He asked Barbara.

“Yes, that poor, terrorized butler retreated back to his room. Now, Bruce kicked me out of the manor. Can we go? Or do you still have to enable Jason?”

“I didn’t enable him,” Dick protested. He started coming down the steps. “I’m just educating him. He’s quick and I—”

Bruce had finally stepped out of the office. His face was blank as he saw Dick. They were both quiet, both staring and both refusing to speak. Finally, Barbara groaned. 

“We’re going. Goodbye, Jason!” She shouted up the steps. Barbara turned around and fixed Bruce with a glare. “Don’t worry, you won’t have to throw me out of this house.”

Bruce didn’t respond. Finally, Dick walked up to Barbara’s right and they left the massive manor behind. The front door swung shut behind them, leaving them in the cold, dark winter night. Dick leaned against Barbara and let out a huge breath. She wrapped her arm around his waist, pulling him closer. Around them, the night was quiet with only the sounds of the manor’s maintenance systems kicking on. Dick walked in front of Barbara and sunk to his knees, burying his face in her thighs. Her fingers ran through his thick black hair, nails scratching softly against his scalp. Finally, after few moments, he lifted his head.

Blue eyes met her green ones, then he was leaning forward. She bent down, pressing her lips to his. They were still velvet soft, his breath still holding the flavor of chocolate. They were together, they were whole for the moment, and Barbara never wanted to stop kissing him. He pulled away slowly, his breathing just a tad uneven.

“Can we go?” He asked.

Barbara nodded. He followed her to her car, ignoring his own bike sitting by the garage. The ride back to her place was calm, but Dick’s hand on her thigh probably played a key role in that. The curves of the manor’s driveway were familiar, easy to navigate. Once they arrived at her place, Dick called the elevator as Barbara locked the car up for the night. His hand reached for hers as she reached his side, and she took it, her palm pressed to his, feeling every scar and mark he’d received through the years. It was home. When the elevator finally opened into her place, he trailed behind her like a puppy dog, following her to her bedroom.

“Let’s just… lay down,” She murmured, pulling herself onto her bed.

Dick joined her, laying on his side next to her.

“He barely talked to me,” Dick murmured. His eyes were shut. “I miss him, Babs. I miss him a lot. I just… I want my dad back. But I don’t know how to do that.”

She scooted over a little and cupped his cheek. Her thumb rubbed circles, trailing to his lips, then back to his soft skin.

“You’ll get him back. He’s gonna realize how badly he fucked up, and realize it soon. Trust me, Dick?”

He nodded. Then his arms were wrapped around her. The confrontation at the manor was wearing on them, which forced them into the arms of Morpheus. They slept soundly through the night, wrapped in each other’s embrace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *stomp stomp stomp* daddy??  
> do i LOOK LIKE   
> heres ur vine --- https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=87GUSKlanB0
> 
> anyway i hope yall enjoy this chapter!!! really you all should really just take in how happy and carefree this chapter is please enjoy this chapter when i post next weeks please just remember this chapter im begging you


	10. Yall gon see me today - YALL GON SEE ME TODAY

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the boys big hero reveal

Dick was boiling. He was too hot, there was somebody else in his bed with him. He peeked through his dark lashes, seeing a thick head of red hair resting on his shoulder. Oh, right. He squeezed her gently, then managed to untangle himself from her grasp. After going to the bathroom, Dick wandered into the kitchen. There were eggs and bacon in the fridge but no cereal to be found anywhere in the cabinets. As big as a disappointment as that was, he thought she’d like some breakfast ready for her. Dick set to work, pulling out her worn iron skillet and butter. He cracked the eggs with a skill only Alfred could teach and laid the bacon next to the sizzling eggs. Soon, the smell of melting butter and bacon filled Barbara’s kitchen. Dick was humming quietly to himself as he lifted the sunny side up eggs out of the pan and placed them onto two plates. He reached for the coffee pot, finding it already loaded with grounds and water. Dick pressed the button and the pot began dripping that caffeinated elixir.

“Are you my live-in chef now?” A sleepy voice asked.

“You couldn’t afford my services,” Dick grinned, turning to face Barbara. Her hair was a mess around her shoulders. Her eyes were puffy with sleep and Dick felt his heart stutter.

“You’d be surprised what I can afford.”

Dick handed her a plate. “Like what?”

“A cook that doesn’t sass me. Thanks,” She took the plate, stopping to get a cup of coffee before she sat at her table. 

Barbara rested her chin in her hand, watching as Dick finished cooking the bacon and joined her. He was clad in his boxers, his scarred chest bare. They ate in silence for a few moments, silver scraping against her china that she’d found in a Goodwill a few months back. The bay windows that looked out over the Gotham skyline were letting in the early morning light, filling the apartment with a soft glow. Dick couldn’t help himself from staring at the way the light shone through Barbara’s hair, bringing out reds and golds he could swear he’d never seen before. She finally cracked a small smile at him.

“See something you like?”

She had a dribble of yolk from the corner of her lip. His heart did that stupid stuttering thing again.

“You,” he answered, then tapped the side of his mouth. “You got a little something.”

She wiped her mouth, and then the conservation went into the safety of work talk. Dick told her everything about his job, about how much he was loving it and how much it hurt seeing kids come in with bruises and broken arms because of people who didn’t know how to parent. Finally, he looked at his phone and yelped.

“I’m gonna be late, shit. I’m sorry, Babs.”

“Go, it’s okay. You need to make detective. Thanks for making breakfast.”

Dick walked around the table, having snatched his coat off the chair between them. They stared at each other for a moment, gauging whether a good-bye kiss would be accepted. They finally laughed, then hugged each other.

“Be safe out there, boy wonder.” She murmured into his hair. He squeezed her tighter.

“I’ve never done a reckless thing in my life,” he laughed back.

He didn’t want to let go.

The shift was for the most part, uneventful. Dick didn’t mind. Rosa caught him up on her weekend, telling a story about a leather bar she frequented, but his mind was on his landlord. Also, the body that washed up in the river. If the landlord had been killing his tenants for years, then it wouldn’t make sense for him to be so sloppy the other day. Stephen seemed like the kind of guy who didn’t really do a lot, but the things he did do he did very well. The thoughts plagued him throughout the day, only vanishing when they caught a guy beating his wife.

“This isn’t Gotham City, and we don’t have the Batman,” Rosa had threatened. “we have our rules here, and you’ve just violated one of those.”

Dick jumped as she pulled out her nightstick. 

“I have no tolerance for people who beat their wives.”

“Fuck you, pig,” the slime-ball spat. Rosa lunged. 

Dick managed to move faster, tackling the guy to the ground. He cuffed him, blocking out Rosa cussing him out in Spanish. 

“Stop!” Dick shouted as he cinched the handcuffs tighter around the guy’s wrist. “There’s a judge I know that hates wife beaters. We’ll get him to that judge, okay?”

Rosa huffed, clipping her nightstick back on her belt. They loaded the asshole in the back of the cruiser and began the slow drive back to the precinct. Rosa’s normally talkative self was quiet, replaced with an angry silence. They dropped the guy at booking, then Rosa grabbed Dick and pinned him to the wall.

“He had it coming,” she snarled. “what I was about to do to him would have been a _kindness_.”

Dick placed his hands on her forearm, slowly taking it down from his throat. Rosa barely budged but the look in his eyes were enough.

“Maybe it would have been a kindness, but you said that we’re not Gotham. You’re right, we’re not. We don’t have a guy in a batsuit running around kicking the shit out of criminals. Maybe we need it. I don’t know. But that doesn’t give us the right to start being vigilantes. We’re cops. We took an oath to protect and serve. That doesn’t give us the right to publicly beat someone. Even if he deserves it.”

“Get off of me,” Rosa yanked her arm away. 

Dick watched her storm down the hall, the door to the changing room slamming in her way. He leaned against the wall, letting the fluorescent lights wash over him. Then he realized.

Bludhaven did need a vigilante.

He still had those designs he and Barbara had worked on. Dick pulled out his phone called Alfred.

“Hey, Alfie. I need your help.”

Later that night, Dick was carrying a bag up to Barbara’s. The whole incident with Stephen had him a little spooked, so she’d offered to open her place to him for a while. Together they’d keep watching the landlord. He knocked on the door.

“I heard you’re getting back into the game,” she greeted. “Nightwing.”

Dick walked in, seeing Clark and Alfred sitting on her couch. He set the bag by the door and couldn’t stop the smile from appearing on his face. Alfred had a heavy briefcase sitting at his feet.

Barbara followed behind him, her hand winding into his as they joined the two sitting on the couch. The apartment looked the same, it was the same, with the plush light blue couches and the low-lying wooden table, the area rug that managed to keep everything close in the large room. But the normal cheerful space was somber. It felt like the moments right before a storm.

“Shall we, Master Dick?”

The uniform fit like a dream. Alfred had questions about the massive collar and the deep v-neck design – many were the same questions Barbara had. But as he slid on the pants, finding the hidden zipper and sliding it up, he finally felt a part of himself click. Dick tugged on shirt, then ran his fingers over the blue Kevlar. His fingers rolled over the yellow stripes, feeling each part of the vibrant costume. Finally, he applied the mask. Two quick swabs of spirit gum had the mask sticking firmly to his face. He turned slowly in the mirror, seeing the way the costume protected him and brought forth this new persona. Bludhaven didn’t have a vigilante, but she was about to get one. He was going to as ostentatious as the city. Nightwing leaned down and picked up the escrima sticks peeking out of the bag. A long staff would be fun, but he was used to close combat. He could do more damage with two escrima.

Dick stepped back into the living room. Right as he entered, fireworks exploded over Gotham Bay. City lights were glittering against the windows, reflecting off the yellow beads that lined his costume. Clark broke into a massive smile. Barbara’s hand flew to her mouth as the butler sighed.

“Let’s get this show on the road,” Nightwing beamed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey uh lemme just show up over a month late with a chapter lmao sorry 
> 
> here's the vine ya animals https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZYbHv5j9a1E  
>  
> 
> unfortunately this story will be placed back on hiatus so I can finish up a few series (mainly, this one -- https://archiveofourown.org/series/721326 ) and then decide what I want to do with some of my other fics. I would say right now, updates should resume in march!


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